diff options
Diffstat (limited to 'old/66846-0.txt')
| -rw-r--r-- | old/66846-0.txt | 12312 |
1 files changed, 0 insertions, 12312 deletions
diff --git a/old/66846-0.txt b/old/66846-0.txt deleted file mode 100644 index 29cb73d..0000000 --- a/old/66846-0.txt +++ /dev/null @@ -1,12312 +0,0 @@ -The Project Gutenberg eBook of “1914”, by John Oxenham - -This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and -most other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no restrictions -whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms -of the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online at -www.gutenberg.org. If you are not located in the United States, you -will have to check the laws of the country where you are located before -using this eBook. - -Title: “1914” - -Author: John Oxenham - -Release Date: November 29, 2021 [eBook #66846] - -Language: English - -Produced by: Peter Becker and the Online Distributed Proofreading Team - at https://www.pgdp.net (This file was produced from images - generously made available by The Internet Archive) - -*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK “1914” *** - - - - - -“1914” - - - - -JOHN OXENHAM’S NOVELS - - - GOD’S PRISONER - RISING FORTUNES - OUR LADY OF DELIVERANCE - A PRINCESS OF VASCOVY - JOHN OF GERISAU - UNDER THE IRON FLAIL - BONDMAN FREE - MR. JOSEPH SCORER - BARBE OF GRAND BAYOU - A WEAVER OF WEBS - HEARTS IN EXILE - THE GATE OF THE DESERT - WHITE FIRE - GIANT CIRCUMSTANCE - PROFIT AND LOSS - THE LONG ROAD - CARETTE OF SARK - PEARL OF PEARL ISLAND - THE SONG OF HYACINTH - MY LADY OF SHADOWS - GREAT-HEART GILLIAN - A MAID OF THE SILVER SEA - LAURISTONS - THE COIL OF CARNE - THEIR HIGH ADVENTURE - QUEEN OF THE GUARDED MOUNTS - MR. CHERRY - THE QUEST OF THE GOLDEN ROSE - MARY ALL-ALONE - RED WRATH - MAID OF THE MIST - BROKEN SHACKLES - FLOWER OF THE DUST - MY LADY OF THE MOOR - “1914” - - -VERSE - - BEES IN AMBER. _105th Thousand_ - “ALL’S WELL!” _75th Thousand_ - THE KING’S HIGH WAY. _55th Thousand_ - HYMN FOR THE MEN AT THE FRONT. _6th Million_ - - - - - “1914” - - BY - JOHN OXENHAM - - SECOND EDITION - - METHUEN & CO. LTD. - 36 ESSEX STREET W.C. - LONDON - - - - - _First Published_ _September 15th 1916_ - _Second Edition_ _September 1916_ - - - - -“1914” - - - - -I - - -The early morning of July 25th, 1914, was not at all such as the date -might reasonably have led one to expect. It was gray and overcast, with -heavy dew lying white on the grass and a quite unseasonable rawness in -the air. - -The clock on the mantelpiece of the morning-room in The Red House, -Willstead, was striking six, in the sonorous Westminster chimes, which -were so startlingly inconsistent with its size, as Mr John Dare drew -the bolts of the French window and stepped out on to his back lawn. - -He had shot the bolts heavily and thoughtfully the night before, long -after all the rest had gone up to bed, though he noticed, when he -went up himself, that Noel’s light still gleamed under his door. His -peremptory tap and ‘Get to bed, boy!’ had produced an instant eclipse, -and he determined to speak to him about it in the morning. - -He had never believed in reading in bed himself. Bed was a place in -which to sleep and recuperate. If it had been a case of midnight oil -and the absorption of study now--all well and good. But Noel’s attitude -towards life in general and towards study in particular permitted no -such illusion. - -And it was still heavily and thoughtfully that Mr Dare drew back -the bolts and stepped out into the gray morning. Not that he knew -definitely that this twenty-fifth of July was a day big with the fate -of empires and nations, and of the world at large,--simply that he had -not slept well; and bed, when you cannot sleep, is the least restful -place in the world. - -As a rule he slept very soundly and woke refreshed, but for many nights -now his burdened brain had neglected its chances, and had chased, -and been chased by, shadowy phantoms,--possibilities, doubts, even -fears,--which sober daylight scoffed at, but which, nevertheless, -seemed to lurk in his pillow and swarm out for his undoing the moment -he laid his tired head upon it. - -Out here in the fresh of the morning,--which ought by rights to have -been full of sunshine and beauty, the cream of a summer day,--he could, -as a rule, shake off the shadows and get a fresh grip on realities and -himself. - -But the very weather was depressing. The year seemed already on the -wane. There were fallen leaves on the lawn. The summer flowers were -despondent. There was a touch of red in the Virginia creeper which -covered the house. The roses wore a downcast look. The hollyhocks and -sweet-peas showed signs of decrepitude. It seemed already Autumn, and -the chill damp air made one think of coming Winter. - -And the unseasonal atmospheric conditions were remarkably akin to his -personal feelings. - -For days he had had a sense of impending trouble in business matters, -all the more irritating because so ill-defined and impalpable. Troubles -that one could tackle in the open one faced as a matter of course, -and got the better of as a matter of business. But this ‘something -coming and no knowing what’ was very upsetting, and his brows knitted -perplexedly as he paced to and fro, from the arch that led to the -kitchen-garden to the arch that led to the front path, up which in -due course Smith’s boy would come whistling with the world’s news and -possibly something that might cast a light on his shadows. - -Mr Dare’s business was that of an import and export merchant, chiefly -with the Continent, and his offices were in St Mary Axe. He had old -connections all over Europe and was affiliated with the Paris firm of -Leroux and Cie, Charles Leroux having married his sister. - -As a rule his affairs ran full and smooth, with no more than the -to-be-expected little surface ruffles. But for some weeks past he had -been acutely conscious of a disturbance in the commercial barometer, -and so far he had failed to make out what it portended. - -Politically, both at home and abroad, matters seemed much as usual, -always full of menacing possibilities, to which, however, since nothing -came of them, one had grown somewhat calloused. - -The Irish brew indeed looked as if it might possibly boil over. That -gun-running business was not at all to his mind. But he was inclined to -think there was a good deal of bluff about it all. And the suffragettes -were ramping about and making fools of themselves in their customary -senseless fashion, and doing all the damage they possibly could to -their own cause and to the nation at large. - -The only trouble of late on the Continent had been the murder of -the Archduke Ferdinand and his wife about a month before. And that -seemed to be working itself off in acrimonious snappings and yappings -by the Austrian and Servian papers. Austria would in due course -undoubtedly claim such guarantees of future good behaviour on the part -of her troublesome little neighbour as the circumstances, when fully -investigated, should call for. The tone of the note she had sent, -calling on Servia no longer to permit the brewing of trouble within -her borders, was somewhat brusque no doubt but not unnaturally so. And -Servia, weary with her late struggles, would, of course, comply and -there the matter would end. - -It was unthinkable that the general peace should suffer from such a -cause when it had survived the great flare-up in the Balkans the year -before. Austria would not dare to go too far since she must first -consult Germany, and the Kaiser, it was well known, desired nothing -better than to maintain the peace which he had kept so resolutely for -five-and-twenty years. If it had been that hot-head, the Crown Prince, -now---- But fortunately for the world the reins were in cooler hands. - -Then again the Money Market here showed no more disturbance than was -to be expected under such unsettled conditions, and the Bank-rate -remained at three per cent. The Berlin and Vienna Bourses were somewhat -unsettled. But there were always adventurous spirits abroad ready to -take advantage of any little disturbance and reap nefarious harvests. - -Anyway he could see no adequate connection between any of these things -and the sudden stoppage of his deliveries of beet-sugar from Germany -and Austria, and the unusual lapsus in correspondence and remittances -from both those countries,--which matters were causing him endless -worry and anxiety. - -His brother-in-law, Leroux, in Paris, had hinted at no gathering -clouds, as he certainly would have done had any been perceptible. And -the sensitive pulse of international affairs on the Bourse there would -have perceived them instantly if they had existed. The very fact that -M. Poincaré, the President, was away in Russia was proof positive that -the sky was clear. - -The only actual hint of anything at all out of the common was in that -last letter from his eldest girl, Lois, who had been studying at the -Conservatorium in Leipsic for the last two years. - -She had written, about a week before,--“What is brewing? There is a -spirit of suppressed excitement abroad here, but I cannot learn what -it means. They tell me it is the usual preparation for the Autumn -manœuvres. It may be so, but all the time I have been here I have never -seen anything quite like it. If they were preparing for war I could -understand it, but that is of course out of the question, since the -Kaiser’s heart is set on peace, as everyone knows.” - -There was not much in that in itself, though Lois was an unusually -level-headed girl and not likely to lay stress on imaginary things. -But that, and the evasiveness, when it was not silence, of his German -correspondents, and the non-arrival of his contracted-for supplies of -beet-sugar, had set his mind running on possibilities from which it -recoiled but could not shake itself entirely free. - -Presently, as he paced the well-defined track he had by this time -made across the dewy lawn, he heard the rattle of the kitchen grate -as heavy-handed Sarah lit the fire, and the gush of homely smoke from -the chimney had in it a suggestion of breakfast that put some of his -shadows to flight. Sarah and breakfast were substantial every-day facts -before which the blue devils born of broken sleep temporarily withdrew. - -Then from behind Honor’s wide-open window and drawn curtains he heard -her cheerful humming as she dressed. And then her curtains were -switched aside with a strenuous rattle, and at sight of him she stuck -out her head with a saucy, - -“Hello, Mr Father! Got the hump? What a beast of a day! I say,--you -_are_ wearing a hole in that carpet. Doesn’t look much of a day for a -tennis tournament, does it? Rotten! I just wish I had the making of -this country’s weather; anyone who wished might make her----” - -Smith’s boy’s exuberant whistle sounded in the front garden, and Honor -chimed in, “Good-bye, Piccadilly!”--as her father hastened to the gate -to get his paper. - -Smith’s boy was just preparing to fold and hurl it at the porch--a -thing he had been strictly forbidden to do, since on wet and windy days -it resulted in an unreadable rag retrieved from various corners of the -garden instead of a reputable news-sheet. At the unexpected appearance -of Mr Dare in the archway, his merry pipe broke off short at the -farewell to Leicester Square, and Honor’s clear voice round the corner -carried them triumphantly to the conclusion that it was “a long long -way to Tipperary,” without obbligato accompaniment. The boy grinned, -and producing a less-folded paper from his sheaf, retired in good order -through the further gate, and piped himself bravely up the Oakdene path -next door, while Mr Dare shook the paper inside out and stood searching -for anything that might in any way bear upon his puzzle. - -His anxious eye leaped at once to the summary of foreign news, and his -lips tightened. - -“The Austrian Minister has been instructed to leave Belgrade unless the -Servian Government complies with the Austrian demand by 6 p.m. this -evening.” - -An ultimatum!... Bad!... Dangerous things, ultimatums! - -“It is stated that Russia has decided to intervene on behalf of Servia.” - -“H’m! If Russia,--then France! If France,--then Germany and Italy!... -And how shall we stand? It is incredible,” and he turned hastily for -hope of relief to the columns of the paper, and read in a leader -headed “_Europe and the Crisis_,”--“All who have the general peace -at heart must hope that Austria has not spoken her last word in the -note to Servia, to which she requires a reply to-night. If she has we -stand upon the edge of war, and of a war fraught with dangers that are -incalculable to all the Great Powers.” - -Then the front door opened and his wife came out into the porch. - -“Breakfast’s ready, father,” she said briskly. “Any news?” - -She was a very comely woman of fifty or so, without a gray hair yet and -of an unusually pleasing and cheerful countenance. The girls got their -good looks from her, the boys took more after their father. - -“Any light on matters?” asked Mrs Dare hopefully again, as he came -slowly along the path towards her. And then, at sight of his face, -“Whatever is it, John?” - -He had made it a rule to leave ordinary business worries behind him in -town where they properly belonged. But matters of moment he frequently -discussed with his wife and had found her aloof point of view and clear -common-sense of great assistance at times. His late disturbance of mind -had been very patent to her, but, beyond the simple facts, he had been -able to satisfy her no more than himself. - -“Very grave news, I’m afraid,” he said soberly. “Austria and Servia -look like coming to blows.” - -“Oh?” said Mrs Dare, in a tone which implied no more than interested -surprise. “I should have thought Servia had had enough fighting to last -her for some time to come.” - -“I’ve no doubt she has. It’s Austria driving at her. Russia -will probably step in, and so Germany, Italy, France, and maybe -ourselves----” - -“John!”--very much on the alert now.--“It is not possible.” - -“I’m afraid it’s even probable, my dear. And if it comes it will mean -disaster to a great many people.” - -“What about Lois? Will she be safe out there?” - -“We must consider that. I’ve hardly got round to her yet. Let us make -sure of one more comfortable breakfast anyway,” he said, with an -attempt at lightness which he was far from feeling, and as they went -together to the breakfast-room, Honor came dancing down the stairs. - -“Hello, Dad! Did they give extra prizes for early rising at your -school?” she asked merrily, and ran on without waiting for an -answer,--“And did you choke that boy who was whistling ‘Tipperary’? I -had to finish without accompaniment and he was doing it fine. He has a -musical soul. It was Jimmy Snaggs. He’s in my class at Sunday School. -You should hear him sing.” - -“You tell him again from me that if he can’t deliver papers properly -he’d better find some other walk in life,” said Mr Dare, as he chipped -an egg and proceeded with his breakfast. - -“It looks all right,” said Honor, picking up the paper. “Let’s see -the cricket. Old No’s aching to hear. Hm--hm--hm--Kent beat Middlesex -at Maidstone,--Blythe and Woolley’s fine bowling,--Surrey leads for -championship. That’s all right. Hello, what’s all this?--‘Servia -challenged. King Peter’s appeal to the Tsar. Grave decisions impending. -The risk to Europe.’ I--_say_! Is there going to be another war? How -ripping!” - -“Honor!” said her mother reprovingly. - -“Well, I don’t mean that, of course. But a war does make lively papers, -doesn’t it? I’m sick of Ireland and suffragettes.” - -“If this war comes you’ll be sicker of it than of anything you ever -experienced, before it’s over, my dear,” said Mr Dare gravely. - -“Why?--Austria and Servia?” - -“And Russia and Germany and France and Italy and possibly England.” - -“My Goodness! You don’t mean it, Dad?” and she eyed him keenly. “I -believe you’re just--er--pulling my leg, as old No would say?” and she -plunged again into the paper. - -“Bitter fact, I fear, my dear.” - -“How about Lois? Will she be in the thick of it?” she asked, raising -her head for a moment to stare meditatively at him, with the larger -part of her mind still busy with the news. - -“We were just thinking of her. I’m inclined to wire her to come home at -once.” - -Then Noel strolled in with a nonchalant, “Morning everybody!... Say, -Nor! What about the cricket? You promised----” - -“Cricket’s off, my son,” said Honor, reading on. “It’s war and a case -of fighting for our lives maybe.” - -“Oh, come off!”--then, noticing the serious faces of the elders,--“Not -really? Who with?” - -“Everybody,” said Honor. “--Armageddon!” - -He went round to her and pored eagerly over the paper with his head -alongside hers. They were twins and closely knit by many little -similarities of thought and taste and feeling. - -“Well!... I’ll--be--bowled!” as he gradually assimilated the news. “Do -you really think it’ll come to a general scrap?”--to his father. - -“Those who have better means of judging than I have evidently fear it, -my boy. I shall learn more in the City no doubt,” and he hurried on -with his breakfast. - -The front-door bell shrilled sharply. - -“Post!” said Honor. “Must be something big,” and dashed away to get it. -She never could wait for the maid’s leisurely progress when letters -were in question, and she and the postman were on the best of terms. He -always grinned when she came whirling to the door. - -“Why--Colonel!” they heard her surprised greeting. “And Ray! You _are_ -early birds. I thought you were the post. What worms are you after now? -Is it the War?”--as she ushered them into the drawing-room. - -“Bull’s-eye first shot,” said a stentorian voice. “Has your father gone -yet, Honor?” - -“Just finishing his breakfast, Colonel. I’ll tell him,” and as she -turned to go, her father came in. - -“How are you, Colonel?” said Mr Dare. “Good morning, Ray! What are our -prospects of keeping out of it, do you think?” - -“None,” said the Colonel gravely. “It’s ‘The Day’ they’ve been getting -ready for all these years, and that we’ve been expecting--some of us, -and unable to get ready for because you others thought differently. But -we want a word or two with Mrs Dare too. Will you beg her to favour us, -Honor, my dear?” and Honor sped to summon her mother to the conference. - -“We must apologise for calling at such an hour, Mrs Dare,” said the -Colonel, as they shook hands, “But the matter admits of no delay. Ray -here wants your permission to go out and bring Lois home. We think she -is in danger out there.” - -“You know how things are between us, dear Mrs Dare,” broke in Ray -impulsively. “We have never really said anything definite, but we -understand one another. And if it’s going to be a general scrap all -round, as Uncle Tony is certain it is, then the sooner she is clear of -it the better. I’ve never been easy in my mind about her since that -little beast von Helse brought her over last year.” - -At which a reminiscent smile flickered briefly in the corners of Mrs -Dare’s lips and made Ray think acutely of Lois, who had just that same -way of savouring life’s humours. - -“I was thinking of wiring for her to come home, as soon as I got to -town,” said Mr Dare. - -“If my views are correct,” said the Colonel weightily, “and I fear -you’ll find them so, travelling, over there, will be no easy matter. -The moment mobilisation is ordered--and the possibility is that it’s -going on now for all they are worth,--everything will be under martial -law,--all the railways in the hands of the military, all traffic -disorganised,--possibly the frontiers closed. Everything chock-a-block, -in fact. It may be no easy job to get her safely out even now. But if -anyone can do it, in the circumstances, I’ll back Ray. He’s glib at -German and knows his way about, and where Lois is concerned----” - -“It is very good of you, Ray,”--began Mrs Dare, warmly. - -“Not a bit. It’s good of you to trust her to me. I can start in an -hour, and I’ll bring her back safe or know the reason why. Thank you -so much!” and he gripped her hand and then suddenly bent forward and -kissed her on the cheek. “I’m nearly packed,”--at which Mrs Dare’s -smile flickered again.--“I’ll cut away and finish. I must catch the ten -o’clock from Victoria, and bar accidents I’ll be in Leipsic to-morrow -morning. You might perhaps give me just a little note for her, saying -you approve my coming,” and he hurried away to finish his preparations. - -Honor and Noel heard him going and sped out after him, all agog to know -what it was all about. - -“Here! What’s up among all you elderly people?” cried Noel. - -“No time to talk, old man. They’ll tell you all about it,” Ray called -over his shoulder and disappeared through the front gate. - -“Well!--I’m blowed! Old Ray’s got a move on him. What’s he up to, I -wonder.” - -“I’ll tell you, No. He’s going after Lois----” - -“After Lois? Why--what’s wrong with Lo?” - -“Don’t you see? If there’s going to be war over there she might get -stuck and not be able to get home for years----” - -“Oh--years! It’ll all be over in a month. Wars now-a-days don’t run -into time. It’s too expensive, my child.” - -“Well, anyway, old Lo will be a good deal better safe at home than in -the thick of it. And I guess that’s what Ray and the Colonel think.” - -“I’d no idea they’d got that far. Of course I knew he was sweet on her. -You could see that when that von Helse chap was here, and old Ray used -to look as if he’d like to chew him up.” - -“I knew all about it.” - -“Of course. Girls always talk about these things.” - -“She never said a word. But I knew all the same.” - -“Kind of instinct, I suppose.” - -Here the elders came out of the drawing-room, preceded, as the door -opened, by the Colonel’s emphatic pronouncement, - -“--Inevitable, my dear sir. We cannot possibly escape being drawn in. -Their plans are certain to be based on getting in through Belgium -and Luxembourg. We’ve been prepared for that for many years past. -And if they touch Belgium the fat’s in the fire, for we’re bound to -stop it--if we can. If some of us had had our way we’d be in a better -position to do it than we are. Anyhow we’ll have to do our best. We’d -have done better if you others had had less faith in German bunkum. -Noel, my boy,” as Noel saluted, “We shall probably want you before -we’re through.” - -“You think it’ll be a tough business, sir?” - -“Tough? It’ll be hell, my boy, before the slate’s all clean again. And -that won’t be till the Kaiser and all his gang are wiped off it for -ever.” - -“I thought it would be all over in a month or two.” - -“A year or two may be more like it. Germany is one big -fighting-machine, and till it’s smashed there’ll be no peace in the -world.” - -“Think they’ll get over here, sir?” chirped Honor expectantly. - -“They’ll try, if we leave them a chance. Thank God,--and Winston -Churchill--we’re ready for them there. That man’s looked ahead and he’s -probably saved England.” - -“Good old Winston!” - -“If you’re off, Dare, I’ll walk along with you. I must call at the -Bank. It won’t do for Ray to run out of funds over there. Good-bye, Mrs -Dare! Bring you good news in a day or two. Ta-ta, Honor!” - -“You’ll let me stand my share----” began Mr Dare, as they walked along -together. - -“Tut, man! You’ll need all your spare cash before we’re through and -I’ve plenty lying idle.” - -“You really think it may be a long business?” - -“I don’t see how it can be anything else. Have you had no warnings of -its coming from any of your correspondents?” - -“We told you of Lois’s letter. We’ve had nothing more than that--except -delay in goods coming through--and in remittances.” - -“Exactly! Railways too busy carrying men and horses; and business men -preferring to keep their money in their own hands. I tell you they’ve -been working up to this for years, only waiting for the psychological -moment.” - -“And why is this the psychological moment? The Servian affair hardly -seems worth all the pother----” - -“Do you remember a man named Humbert attacking the French War Minister -in the Senate, about a fortnight ago, on the subject of their army,--no -boots, no ammunition, no guns worth firing, no forts, and so on?” - -“I remember something about it. I remember it struck me as a rather -foolish display of joints in the armour----” - -“And Petersburg was all upside down, the other day, with out-of-work -riots. Crowds, one hundred thousand strong, slaughtering the police, -even while Poincaré was visiting the Tsar. You remember that?” - -“Yes.” - -“And at home here, matters in Ireland looked like coming to a head. In -fact it looked like civil war.” - -“I never believed it would come to anything of the kind, as you know.” - -“But to that exceedingly clever busy-body, the Kaiser,--at least, he -thinks he’s exceedingly clever. It’s possible to be too clever.--Well, -here were his three principal enemies all tied up in knots. What better -chance would he ever get?” - -“H’m! All the same he seems doing his best to smooth things over.” - -“Bunkum, my boy!--all bunkum! He may try to save his face to the world -at large, but I bet you they’re quietly mobilising over there as fast -as they know how to, and that’s faster than we dream of. And the moment -they’re ready they’ll burst out like a flood and sweep everything -before them--unless we can dam it, damn ’em! Perhaps you’ll look in -this evening and tell me how the City feels about it,” and at the door -of the Bank they parted, and Mr Dare went on to his train in anything -but a comfortable frame of mind. - - - - -II - - -They had been neighbours now for close on ten years and close friends -for nine and a half of them. - -Noel and Honor were mischievous young things of eight when the Dares -took The Red House, and in their adventurous prowlings they very soon -made the acquaintance of Miss Victoria Luard, aged nine and also of -an adventurous disposition, who lived at Oakdene, the big white house -next door with black oak beams all over its forehead,--“like Brahmin -marks only the other way,”--as Honor said, which gave it a surprised, -wide-awake, lifted-eyebrows look. - -From the youngsters the acquaintance spread to the elder members of the -two families, and grew speedily into very warm friendship, in spite of -the fact that the Dares were all sturdy Liberals, and the Luards, as a -family, staunch Conservatives. - -Colonel Luard, V.C., C.B.--Sir Anthony indeed, but he always insisted -on the Colonel, since, as he said, “That was my own doing, sir, but the -other--da-ash it!--I’d nothing to do with that. It was in the family -and my turn came.” - -He was small made, and of late inclined to stoutness which he strove -manfully to subdue, and he wore a close little muzzle of a moustache, -gray, almost white now, and slight side-whiskers in the style of -the late highly-esteemed Prince Consort. But though his moustache -and whiskers and hair and eyebrows all showed unmistakable signs of -his seventy-eight years, his little figure--except in front--was as -straight as ever. He was as full of fire and go as a shrapnel shell, -and his voice, on occasion, was as much out of proportion to his size -as was that of the clock with the deep Westminster chimes on the -breakfast-room mantelpiece at The Red House. - -He looked a bare sixty-five, but as a youngster he had been through the -Crimean campaign and the Indian Mutiny, and in the latter gained the -coveted cross “For Valour” by exploding a charge at a rebel fort-gate -which had already cost a score of lives and still blocked Britain’s -righteous vengeance. - -He had been on the Abyssinian Expedition and in the Zulu War, and had -returned from the latter so punctured with assegai wounds that he vowed -he looked like nothing but a da-asht pin-cushion. Then he came into the -title, and a very comfortable income, through the death of an uncle, -who had made money in the banking business and received his baronetcy -as reward for party-services; and after one more campaign--up Nile with -Wolseley after Gordon--the Colonel retired on his honors and left the -field to younger men. - -He found his brother, Geoff, just married and vicar of Iver Magnus, -went to stop with him for a time, and stopped on--a very acceptable -addition to the vicar’s household. When the children came, who so -acceptable, and in every way so adequate, a godfather as the Colonel? -And, with the very comfortable expectations incorporated in him, how -resist his vehement choice of names,--extraordinary as they seemed to -the hopeful father and mother? - -And so he had the eldest girl christened Alma, after his first -engagement; and the boy who came next he named Raglan, after his first -esteemed commander; and the next girl he was actually going to call -Balaclava; but there Mrs. Vicar struck, and nearly wept herself into a -fever, until they compounded on Victoria, after Her Majesty. - -When Vic was five, and Ray ten, and Alma twelve, their father and -mother both died in an heroic attempt at combating an epidemic of -typhoid, and Uncle Tony shook off the dust and smells of Iver Magnus, -bought Oakdene at Willstead, and set up his establishment there, with -little Miss Mitten, the sister of his special chum Major Mitten--who -had been pin-cushioned by the Zulus at the same time as himself only -more so--as vice-reine. - -Miss Mitten was sixty-seven if she was a day, but never admitted it -even at census-time. She was an eminently early-Victorian little lady, -had taught in a very select ladies’ school, and had written several -perfectly harmless little books, which at the time had obtained some -slight vogue but had long since been forgotten by every one except -the ‘eminent authoress’ herself, as some small newspaper had once -unforgettably dubbed her. - -She was as small and neat as the Colonel himself, and in spite of the -ample living at Oakdene her slim little figure never showed any signs -of even comfortable rotundity. She was in fact sparely made, and the -later fat years had never succeeded in making good the deficiencies of -the many preceding lean ones. She wore the neatest of little gray curls -at the side of her head, and, year in year out, they never varied by so -much as one single hair. - -She was very gentle, a much better housekeeper than might have been -expected, and was partial to the black silk dresses and black silk -open-work mittens of the days of long ago. The youngsters called her -Auntie Mitt., and the Colonel they called Uncle Tony. She alone of all -their world invariably addressed the Colonel as ‘Sir Anthony,’ and in -her case only he raised no objection, since he saw that she thereby -obtained some peculiar little inward satisfaction. - -Alma, the eldest girl, was, in this year of grace 1914, twenty-six, -though you would never have thought it to look at her. She was a tall -handsome girl, dark, as were all the Luards, and three years before -this, had suddenly shaken off the frivolities of life and gone in for -nursing, with an ardour and steady persistence which had surprised her -family and greatly pleased the Colonel, whose still-keen, dark eyes -twinkled understandingly and approvingly. - -Raglan--Ray to all his friends--was twenty-four, two inches taller than -Alma, broad of shoulder and deep of chest,--he had pulled stroke in his -College eight, and his clean-shaven face, with its firm mouth and jaw -and level brows, was good to look upon. He was studying the honourable -profession of the law and intended to reach the Woolsack or know the -reason why. Partly as a sop to the martial spirit of Uncle Tony, and -also because he had deemed it a duty--though he speedily found it a -pleasure also--he had joined the Territorials and was at this time a -first lieutenant in the London Scottish, and a very fine figure he made -in the kilt and sporran. - -Victoria, who so narrowly escaped being Balaclava, was nineteen and -the political heretic of the family. She was an ardent Home-Ruler, a -Suffragist, a Land-Reformer, played an almost faultless game at tennis, -could give the Colonel 30 at billiards and beat him 100 up with ten -to spare; and held a ten handicap on the links. She was in fact very -advanced, very full of energy and good spirits, and frankly set on -getting out of life every enjoyable thrill it could be made to yield. - -Their close intimacy with the Dares had been of no little benefit -to all three of them. Accustomed from their earliest years to the -atmosphere of an ample income, they had never experienced any necessity -for self-denial, self-restraint, or any of the little dove-coloured -virtues which add at times an unexpected charm to less luxurious lives. - -They found that charm among the Dares and profited by it. To their -surprise, as they grew old enough to understand it, they found their -own easy lives narrower in many respects than their neighbours’, -although obviously Uncle Tony’s open purse was as much wider and deeper -than Mr Dare’s as Oakdene, with its well-tended lawns and beds and -shrubberies and orchard and kitchen-gardens, was larger than The Red -House and its trifling acre. And yet, as children, they had always had -better times on the other side of the hedge, when they had made a hole -large enough to crawl through; and Christmas revels and Halloweens in -The Red House were things to look back upon even yet. - -Perhaps it was Mrs Dare that made all the difference. Auntie Mitt -was a little dear and all that, and Uncle Tony was an old dear and -as good as gold. But there was something about Mrs Dare which gave a -different feeling to The Red House and everything about it; and Alma -very soon arrived at the meaning of it, and expressed it, succinctly if -exaggeratedly, when she said to Lois one day, - -“Lo, I’d give Auntie Mitt and Uncle Tony ten times over for half your -mother.” - -And Mrs Dare, understanding very clearly, had mothered them all alike -so far as was possible. And her warm heart was large enough to take -in the additional three without any loss, but rather gain, to her own -four, and with benefit to the three which only the years were to prove. - -The Luard youngsters, in short, had lived in circumstances so wide and -easy that they had become somewhat self-centred, somewhat aloof from -life less well-placed, somewhat careless of others so long as their own -enjoyment of life was full and to their taste. - -Auntie Mitt was not blind to it. In her precise little way she took -upon herself--with justifiable misgiving that nothing would come of -it--to point out to them that they were in danger of falling into the -sin of selfishness. And, as she expected, her gentle remonstrances fell -from them like water off lively little ducks’ backs. - -Uncle Tony considered them the finest children in the world, would not -hear a word against them, and spoiled them to his heart’s content and -their distinct detriment. - -Their association with the Dares saved them no doubt from the worst -results of Uncle Tony’s mistaken kindness, but even Mrs Dare could -not make angels of them any more than she could of her own four. She -could only do her best by them all and leave them to work out their own -salvation in their own various ways. - -Connal Dare, the eldest of her own tribe, had been in the medical -profession since the age of eight, when the game of his heart had -been to make the other three lie down on the floor, covered up with -tidies and shawls, while he inspected their tongues, and timed their -pulses by a toy-watch which only went when he wound it, which he could -not do while holding a patient’s pulse. As he invariably prescribed -liquorice-water, carefully compounded in a bottle with much shaking -beforehand, and acid drops, the others suffered his ministrations with -equanimity so long as his medicaments lasted, but grew convalescent -with revolting alacrity the moment the supply failed. - -Since then, true to his instinct, he had worked hard, and forced his -way up in spite of all that might have hindered. - -His father would have liked him with him in the business in St Mary -Axe, but, perceiving the lad’s bent, raised no objection, on the -understanding that, as far as possible, he made his own way. And this -Connal had succeeded in doing. - -He was a sturdy, fair-haired, blue-eyed fellow, several inches shorter -than Ray Luard but fully his match both in boxing and wrestling, -as proved in many a bout before an admiring audience of five--and -sometimes six, for the Colonel liked nothing better than to see them at -it and bombard them both impartially with advice and encouragement. - -Connal had overcome all obstacles to the attainment of his chosen -career in similar fashion; had taken scholarship after scholarship; -and all the degrees his age permitted, and had even paid some of his -examination fees by joining the Army Medical Corps, which provided him -not only with cash, but also with a most enjoyable yearly holiday in -camp and a certain amount of practice in his profession. - -He had, however, long since decided that general practice would not -satisfy him. He would specialise, and he chose as his field the still -comparatively obscure department of the brain. There were fewer skilled -workers in it than in most of the others. In fact it was looked -somewhat askance at by the more pushing pioneers in research. It -offered therefore more chances and he was most profoundly interested in -his work in all its mysterious heights and depths. - -At the moment he was the hard-worked Third Medical at Birch Grove -Asylum, up on the Surrey Downs, and whenever he could run over to -Willstead for half a day his mother eyed him anxiously for signs of -undue depression or disturbed mentality, and was always completely -reassured by his clear bright eyes, and his merry laugh, and the gusto -with which he spoke of his work and its future possibilities. - -With the approval and assistance of his good friend Dr Rhenius, who -had attended to all the mortal ills of the Dares and Luards since they -came to live in Willstead, he was working with all his heart along -certain definite and well-considered lines, which included prospective -courses of study at Munich and Paris. In preparation for these he was -very busy with French and German, and for health’s sake had become an -ardent golfer. His endless quaint stories of the idiosyncrasies of his -patients showed a well-balanced humorous outlook on the most depressing -phase of human life, and as a rule satisfied even his mother as to the -health and well-being of his own brain. - -It was just about the time that he settled on his own special course -in life, and accepted the junior appointment at Birch Grove, that Alma -Luard surprised her family by deciding that life ought to mean more -than tennis and picnics and parties, and became a probationer at St -Barnabas’s. - -Lois, who came next, had a very genuine talent for music, and a voice -which was a joy to all who heard it. For the perfecting of these she -had now been two years at the Conservatorium at Leipsic and had lived, -during that time, with Frau von Helse, widow of Major von Helse, who -died in Togoland in 1890. Frau von Helse had two children,--Luise, who -was also studying music, and Ludwig, lieutenant in the army. It was -Ludwig’s obvious admiration for Lois, the previous summer,--when he -had escorted her and his sister to Willstead for a fortnight’s visit -to London in return for Frau von Helse’s great kindness to Lois during -her stay in Leipsic--that had fanned into sudden flame the long-glowing -spark of Ray Luard’s love for her. - -Honor was Vic’s great chum and admirer. When Honor began going to St -Paul’s School, Vic insisted on going also, and the experience had done -her a world of good. Even Alma had been known to express regret that -she had not had her chances. An exceedingly high-class and expensive -boarding-school at Eastbourne had been her lot. An establishment in -every respect after Auntie Mitt’s precise little heart, but comparison -of Vic’s wider, if more democratic, experiences with her own eminently -lady-like ones always roused in Alma feelings of vain and envious -regret. - -Noel had been at St Paul’s also, and on the whole had managed to have -a pretty good time. He was no student, however. The playing fields and -Cadet corps always appealed to him more strongly than the class-rooms. -He was now having a short holiday before tackling, with such grace as -might be found possible when the time came, the loathsome mysteries of -St Mary Axe. - -There was nothing else for it. He had shown absolutely no inclination -or aptitude for any special walk in life. His father’s hope was that, -under his own eye, he might in time develop into a business-man and -relieve him of some portion of his at times over-taxing work. - -By dint of strenuous labours Mr Dare had, in the course of years, -worked up a profitable business in foreign imports and exports, but, -like most businesses, it had its ups and downs, and it would be a great -relief to be able to leave some of the details to one whom he knew he -could trust, as he could Noel. He had had--or at all events had had the -chance of--a good sound education. His father could only hope that he -had taken more advantage of it than he had ever permitted to show. And -experience would come with time. - - - - -III - - -When the taxi, for which Ray had ’phoned, came rushing up, they all met -again at the front gate to give him their various God-speeds on his -gallant errand. - -Mrs Dare handed him the note she had hastily penned to Lois, with a -warm, “We are very grateful to you, Ray, for your thought of her. Bring -her safe home to us.” - -The Colonel handed him a small buff paper bag which chinked, saying, -“If you haven’t enough there, my boy, you will let me know. God bless -you both!” - -Vic said enviously, “Just wish I was going! Wouldn’t it be ripping, -Nor, to be stranded out there and have someone come out from England to -rescue you?” - -“Ripping! Let’s try it! Where could we get to?” - -“Little girls are better at home,” said Noel, with his golf-clubs slung -over his shoulder so that not a moment of this last precious holiday -should be missed. “Good-luck, old man! If you get into any boggle wire -for me and I’ll come and get you out of the mud. Jawohl! Hein! Nicht -wahr!” - -“I shall hope to find you all in the best of health about Tuesday or -Wednesday,” said Ray, with a final wave of the hand, and the taxi -whirled away round the corner. - -“See you two later,” cried Noel, as he swung away towards the links. -“I’ll feed up yonder and meet you at the courts at three.” - -The girls sauntered away, arm in arm, up the Oakdene path, to talk it -all over. The Colonel wrung Mrs Dare’s hand again, and said, with warm -feeling that subdued his voice to some extent, “We will congratulate -one another again, ma’am. Nothing could have pleased me better. Lois -is one of the sweetest girls I’ve ever met, and Ray will do us all -credit.” - -“He’s a fine boy. I’m sure they will be very happy. I am thankful it -has fallen out so. I was a little afraid, at times, last summer----” - -“You mean that spick-and-span, cut-and-dried, starched and stuck-up -German dandy? Pooh, ma’am! I knew better than that myself.” - -“He was a good-looking lad, you know, and his music was quite -exceptional.” - -“Always strikes me as rather namby-pamby in a man. But--a word in your -ear, ma’am!”--in a portentous whisper induced by the discharge of his -feelings,--“D’you know, I wouldn’t be a bit surprised if we came on -another link in the chain before long.” - -“Another link?” echoed Mrs Dare, and stared at him in great surprise. - -“Yes,” with a twinkle of beaming eyes. “What do _you_ suppose made -my eldest girl take to that nursing business? You know she’d no need -to----” - -“You mean Con?” - -“Why, of course! Who else? I’ve a great belief in Con. He’ll go far -before he’s through. And I know Alma. And it’s only in the light of Con -that I can explain her.” - -“You’re just an incorrigible old match-maker,” laughed Mrs Dare, more -amused than convinced. - -“When you’re out of the game yourself there’s nothing like watching the -young ones at it. If it had been my luck now to meet yourself before -Dare came along----” - -“You’d have found me in my cradle,” she laughed again, as she went up -the path towards the front door. - -“No,--in short frocks,” said the Colonel emphatically. “But I’d have -waited all right.” - -It was a standing joke among them that the Colonel had fallen in love -with his neighbour’s wife, and he confessed to it like a man, to John -Dare’s very face. - -“Duty calls,” said Mrs Dare. “I’ve got two rooms to turn out this -morning, because my charlady couldn’t come yesterday. And there she is -going in at the back gate. Good-bye, Colonel! I’m half hoping Con may -come over to-day. It’s three weeks since he was here and he sometimes -manages it on a Saturday. I’ll send you word if he comes and perhaps -you’ll come round for a cup of tea.” - -“I will. And bring Alma with me,” he twinkled. - -“Is she to be here? I didn’t know.” - -“Neither do I, but they generally manage to hit on the same day -somehow. Curious, isn’t it?” and he lifted his hat and marched away, -chuckling to himself like a plump little turkey-cock. - - - - -IV - - -Con’s visits were like those of the angels, unexpected, generally -unannounced, and always very welcome. The one curious thing about them -was, as the Colonel had said, that, as often as not, they coincided in -most extraordinary fashion with the whirling home-calls of Alma Luard. -And whenever it happened so, the Colonel chuckled himself nearly into -a fit in private, and in public preserved his innocent unconsciousness -with difficulty. - -Mrs Dare went off to superintend the operations of her charlady, whose -attention to corners and little details in general was subject to -lapses unless the eye of the mistress was within easy range. And as Mrs -Skirrow worked best under a sense of personal injury Mrs Dare became of -necessity the recipient of all her conjugal woes and endless stories of -filial ingratitude. - -She had a husband,--an old soldier in every sense of the word,--who -was cursed with a constitutional objection to authority and work of -any kind, and two sons who took after their father. One or the other -stumbled into a place now and again and lost it immediately, and Mrs -Skirrow slaved night and day to keep them from any deeper depths than -half-a-crown a day and her food was able to save them from. - -“Is ut true, mum, that we’ll mebbe be having another war?” asked Mrs -Skirrow as she flopped and scrubbed. - -“I hope not, Mrs Skirrow, but there’s said to be the possibility of it. -We must hope we’ll be able to keep out of it. War is very terrible.” - -“’Tes that, mum, but there’s a good side to ut too. Mebbe ut’d give -chance o’ someth’n to do to some as don’t do much otherwise. If ut -took my three off and made men of ’em or dead uns ut’d be a change -anyway.” - -“You’d find you’d miss them.” - -“I would that,” said Mrs Skirrow emphatically, and added presently, -“And be glad to.... I done my best to stir ’em up, but ut’s in their -bones. Mebbe if they was in th’ army they’d manage to put some ginger -into ’em.” - -“It might do them good, as you say. But you might never see them again, -you know.” - -“I seen enough of ’em this last two years to last me. ’Taint reasonable -for one woman to have to work herself to the bone for three grown men -that can’t get work ’cause they don’t want to.” - -“It is not. I think it absolutely shameful of them.” - -“Not that they quarrel at all,” said Mrs Skirrow, instantly resentful -of anyone blaming her inepts but herself. “I’m bound to say that for -’em. They’re good-tempered about it, but that don’t keep ’em in clo’es, -to say noth’n of boots. I suppose, mum, you ain’t got an old pair of -...” and Mrs Skirrow’s lamentations resolved themselves into the usual -formula. - -It was close upon tea-time when Con came striding up the path, with a -searching eye on the next-door grounds. - -“And what do you think of the war, mother?” he asked briskly, with -his face all alight, as soon as their greetings were over, and he had -satisfied himself as to the welfare of the rest of the family, and -expressed his entire satisfaction with the news about Lois and Ray. - -“You mean this Austrian business? It’s very disturbing but I hope we -won’t be drawn into it, my boy.” - -“I expect we shall, you know. Pretty certain, it seems to me. And if we -are I’m pretty sure to get the call....” - -“I had not thought of that, Con,” and her hands dropped into her lap -for a moment and she sat gazing at him. “That brings it close home. I -pray it may not come to that.” - -“Well, you see, I’ve had the cash, and the goods have got to be -delivered----” - -“Of course. But----” - -“And if it comes to a scrap they’ll need every medical they can get. -What does Rhenius say about it all?” - -“He’s away,--in Italy, I think.” - -“I remember. He wrote me he was hoping to get off, if he could find a -locum who wouldn’t poison you all in his absence. Well, anyway, I’m -getting my kit packed----” - -“That’s business, my boy,” pealed the Colonel’s hearty voice, as he -came in with a telegram in his hand. “I saw you turn in and I’d already -been invited to drink a cup of tea with you. Alma can’t get off,”--he -said, in a matter-of-fact way, showing the telegram. - -“Oh?--did you expect her, sir?” with an assumption of surprise to cover -his disappointment. - -“I did, my boy, when I heard from your mother that she thought you -might come to-day. Did you?” - -“Medicals and nurses are not their own masters,” said Con -non-committally. “Do you really think we’ll be into it, sir?” - -“I do, Con. I don’t see how we can possibly keep out. It’s a most -da--yes, damnably inevitable sequence, it seems to me. Austria goes -for Servia. Russia won’t stand it. In that case Germany is bound to -help Austria. France will help Russia. Exactly how we stand pledged -to help France and Russia no one knows, I imagine, except the Foreign -Secretary. But everyone knows that the German war-plan contemplates -getting at France through Belgium. And if they try that, the fat’s in -the fire and we’ve got to stop them or go under.” - -“That’s exactly how they’re looking at it at our place, and all the -R.A.M.C. men are getting their things together in readiness for the -call.” - -“It’ll be a tough business,” said the Colonel weightily, but with the -light of battle in his eye. “But we’ve got to go through with it ... -right to the bitter end.” - -“Have you any doubts about the end, sir?” - -“None, my lad. But the end is a mighty long way off and it’ll be a hot -red road that leads to it, unless I’m very much mistaken. They’ve been -preparing for this for years, you see. It had to come, and some of us -saw it. Da-asht pity we didn’t all see it! We’d have been readier for -it than we are. Lord Roberts was right. Every man in Great Britain and -Ireland ought to have been in training for it.” - -“Conscription again, Colonel!” said Mrs Dare. “And you still think -England would stand it?” - -“Not conscription, my dear madam,--Universal Service,--a very different -thing and not liable to the defects of conscription. France broke down -through her faulty conscription in 1870. Germany won on her universal -service. And, da-ash it! we ought to have had it here ever since. But -you others thought we were all screaming Jingoes and mad on military -matters because that was our profession. Now, maybe, it’s too late.” - -“Still, you say you don’t believe they can beat us, sir?” said Con -earnestly. - -“Not in the long run. No, I don’t, my boy. But can you begin to imagine -what a long run will mean in these times? I’ve seen war and I know what -it meant up to twenty years ago. But--if I know anything about it--that -was child’s-play to what this will be. Those--da-asht Germans are so -infernally clever--and you must remember they’ve been working for -this and nothing but this for the last twenty years, while we’ve been -playing football and cricket, and squabbling over the House of Lords -and Home Rule. Da-ash it! If our side had kept in I believe we’d have -been readier.” - -“I doubt it, sir,” said Con, with the laugh in the corners of his -eyes. “You’d have been fighting for your lives all the time, whereas -we at all events have done something--Old Age Pensions, and National -Insurance, and so on,” at which the Colonel snorted like a war-horse -scenting battle. - -“And how is the work going, Con?” asked Mrs Dare, as a lead to less -bellicose subjects. - -“Oh, all right. About same as usual. We got a new old chap in the other -day and he’s taken a curious fancy to my grin. He stops me every time -we meet, and says, ‘Doctor, do smile for me!’ and he’s such an old -comic that I just roar, and then he roars too, and we’re as happy as -can be.” - -“He’s no fool,” said the Colonel. For Con’s grin was very contagious. -The corners of his eyes had a way of wrinkling up when the humorous -aspect of things appealed to him, his eyes almost disappeared, and then -his face creased up all over and the laugh broke out. And as a rule it -made one laugh just to watch him. - -“But we had two rather nasty things, last week,” he said, sobering up. -“Two of the old chaps were set to clean up an out-house, and one of -them came out after a bit and sat down in the sun with his back against -the wall, humming the ‘Old Hundredth,’ they say. One of the attendants -asked him what he was doing there, and he said old Jim was tired and -was lying down inside. And when they went in they found old Jim lying -down with his head beaten in and as dead as a door-nail.” - -“Good Lord!” said the Colonel. “And what did you do to the other?” - -“What could we do? He was quite unconscious of having done anything -wrong. He’ll be kept under observation of course. But the other matter -was worse still, in one way. A table-knife disappeared one day from the -scullery and couldn’t be found anywhere. And for a week we all went -with our heads over both shoulders at once, and the feel of that knife -slicing in between our shoulder-blades at any moment. I tell you, that -was jolly uncomfortable.” - -“And did you find it?” asked Mrs Dare anxiously. - -“Yes, we hunted and hunted till we discovered it inside the back of a -picture frame, and we were mighty glad to get it, I can tell you.” - -“Gad!” said the Colonel, with extreme energy. “I’d sooner be at the -front any day. It’s a safer job than yours, my boy.” - -“I suppose there are possibilities of getting hurt even there, sir,” -and Con’s creases wrinkled up. - -“Oh, you can get hurt all right enough, but it’s not knives between -your shoulder-blades.” - -“Assegais,” suggested Mrs Dare, who knew his record. - -“Assegais are deucedly uncomfortable, but that was fair fighting----” - -Then Mr Dare walked in, very much later than usual for a Saturday. And, -though he greeted them cheerfully, his face was very grave, to his -wife’s anxious eyes. - -“I waited a bit to see if any further news came along,” he said quietly. - -“And how are they feeling about things?” asked the Colonel. - -“Nervous. In fact, gloomy. Everybody admits that it seems incredible, -but there’s a general fear that we may be drawn in, in spite of all Sir -Edward Grey’s efforts.” - -“We shall,” said the Colonel emphatically. “I feel it in my bones. -Germany is very wide awake. She’s been crouching for a spring any time -this several years, and here are England, France, and Russia tied up -with internal troubles. It’s her day without a doubt. Take my advice -and make your preparations, my friend. When it comes it’ll come all in -a heap. I only wish we were readier for it, and I wish to God they’d -have the common-sense to put Kitchener in charge of the Army. He’s the -man for the job, and what earthly use is he in Egypt when Germany may -be at our throats any day? Asquith can’t be expected to understand all -the ins and outs of the machine.” - -“Yes, it’s too much to expect of him. And as to Kitchener, I quite -agree. He’s the right man for the job.” - -“Exchange upset? Money tight?” - -“Slump all round. Consols down one and a half. Bank rate three still, -but expected to jump any day. In fact things are about as sick as they -can be.” - -“We’re in for a very bad time, I’m afraid,” said the Colonel gravely. -And the shadow of the future lay upon them all. - -When, presently, the Colonel got up to go, Mrs Dare and Con went with -him to the front door, and Con went on down the path with him. - -“May I speak to you about Alma, Colonel?” Con began, before they -reached the gate. - -“Yes, my boy, you may. But I know what you want to say.” - -“You’ve seen it, sir? You know how we feel then. And you don’t object?” - -“On the contrary, my boy. I’m very glad you have both chosen so wisely.” - -“That’s mighty good of you, sir. I would have spoken to you before but -I wanted to see my way a little more clearly. And now I can. Sir James -Jamieson of Harley Street,--he’s the biggest man we have in mental -diseases, you know,--well, he saw some scraps of mine in the ‘Lancet’ -and asked me to call on him. He’s a fine man, and he wants me to go to -him as soon as my courses are finished,--Munich and Paris and the rest. -He’s getting on in years, you see, and he was good enough to say that, -from what he had heard of me, he believed I was the man to carry on his -work when his time came to go. It’s immense, you know.” - -“Capital! I always knew you’d go far, Con. My only fear was lest -the--er--atmosphere of your special line should in time affect your own -mind and spirits. But so far it seems to have had no ill effect. Your -spirits are above par, and I’ve just had an excellent proof of your -judgment,”--at which Con laughed joyously. - -“When you’re really keen on a thing it doesn’t upset you, no matter -how unpleasant it may be. And this work is anything but unpleasant to -me. It’s packed with interest. There’s so much we don’t know yet. And -there’s heaps of quaint humour in it, if you look out for it.” - -“Well, keep yourself fit, my boy, and I don’t think your brain will -suffer. _Mens sana_, you know.” - -“I see to that. I get a couple of hours on the links every day and I -never play with a medical,--get quite outside it all, you know. Then I -may speak to Alma, Colonel? She knows, of course, but we’ve never said -very much.” - -“Yes, my lad,--whenever you can catch her. She’s an elusive creature -these days.” - -“I’ll catch her all right,” said Con, all abeam. - -The other young people had just returned from their tournament and were -discussing points over the tea-cups. - -“Hello! Here’s old Con,” shouted Noel, and they all jumped up and gave -him merry welcome. Vic inquired earnestly after the state of his brain; -and satisfied on that head, they poured out their own latest news. - -“Vic and I won,” chortled Honor. “6-5, 6-4, against No and Gregor -McLean.” - -“Oh well,” explained Noel. “If you’d been round the links in the -morning you wouldn’t have been half so nimble on your pins.” - -“Bit heavy, I suppose?” said the Colonel. - -“Heavy wasn’t the word for it, sir, and a beastly gusty wind that upset -all one’s calculations. However, I licked old Greg into a cocked hat -and he’s no end of a nib with the sticks; so that’s one to me. Pick up -any lunch scores as you came along, Con?” - -“Sorry, old man! I didn’t. I was thinking of other things,” and the -Colonel nodded weightily, and said, - -“In a week from now we’ll all have other things to think about, I’m -afraid.” - - - - -V - - -Ray Luard’s quest was one in which the soul of any man might well -rejoice. He was flying, like a knight of old,--though as to ways and -means in very much better case,--to the rescue of his lady-love from -possibilities of trouble. More than that he did not look for, and -possible difficulties and delays weighed little with him. - -He reached Flushing about seven in the evening after a gusty passage -which did not trouble him, and was at Cologne in the early hours of the -morning. But after that his progress was slow and subject to constant, -exasperating, and inexplicable delays. - -He had secured a berth in the sleeper and took fullest advantage of it. -But all night long, as he slept the troubled sleep of the sleeping-car, -he was dully conscious of long intervals when the metronomic nimble of -the wheels died away, and the unusual silence was broken only by the -creaking complaints of the carriage-fittings and the long-drawn snores -and sharper snorts and grunts of his companions in travel. - -The train was crowded and every bunk was occupied. The occupant of the -one above him was so violently stertorous that Ray feared he was in -for a fit, and did his best to save him from it by energetic thumps -from below. But the only result was a momentary pause of surprise in -the strangling solo up above and the immediate resumption of it with -renewed vigour, and Ray gave it up, and drew the bed clothes over his -ears, and left him to his fate. - -In the morning the noisy one turned out to be an immensely fat German -who rolled about the car as if it and the world outside belonged to -him,--the repulsively over-bearing kind of person whose very look -seemed to intimate that no one but himself and his like had any right -to cumber the earth. And just the kind of person that Ray Luard loathed -and abominated beyond words. - -Ray’s disgust of him, and all his kind and all their doings, showed -unmistakably in his face, and the fat one became aware of it and took -offence. He dropped ponderously into the seat alongside Ray so that -he filled three-quarters of it, and proceeded to stare at him in most -offensive fashion. His little yellow pig-like eyes, almost lost in the -greasy fat rolls of his face, travelled suspiciously over his neighbour -from head to foot as though searching for something to settle on. - -Ray knew the look and its meaning. Had he been back at Heidelberg he -would forthwith have demanded of the starer when and where it was his -pleasure they should meet to fight it out. But this mountain of fat was -long past his Mensur days, and Ray was doubtful how to tackle him. - -He did perhaps the best thing under the circumstances,--turned his back -on him and looked out of the window. - -But the fat one was not satisfied to let matters rest so. He loosed a -wheezy laugh and said, “Ach, zo! Ein Engländer!” with another wheezy -little laugh of extremest scorn. - -“And what of that, Fat-Pig?” rapped out Ray, in German equal to his -own, and the shot took the fat one in the wind. - -“Fat-Pig! Fat-Pig! Gott im Himmel, you call me Fat-Pig?” - -He rose, bellowing with fury, and was about to drop himself bodily on -Ray, when others who had watched the proceedings--a Bavarian whose -foot he had trampled on without apology ten minutes before, and a -Saxon upon whose newspapers he had also plumped down and pulped into -illegibility--jumped up and laid hands on him and dragged him back. - -“So you are! So you are!” they shouted. “The Englishman has doubtless -paid his fare and is entitled to the whole of a seat without insult or -annoyance.” - -“They ought to charge you double and then carry you in the -baggage-van,” said the Saxon. - -“You should try to remember you’re not yet in Prussia--you!” growled -the Bavarian, jerking the mountainous one down into an empty seat. - -“Ja!--Mein Gott, if I had you all in Prussia I’d show you who’s who,” -and he wagged his dewlaps at them with menacing malevolence. - -“A damned English spy, if I have any eyes,” he wheezed. - -“No more a spy than you’re a gentleman,” retorted Ray. - -“Enough! Enough, mein Herr! Let him be! He’s just a Prussian and -they’re all like that,--blown out with their own conceit till they’ve -no decent manners left,” said the Bavarian. - -“That is so,” said the Saxon, and they removed themselves with Ray out -of sight and sound of the swollen one. - -The other two were quite friendly, and through their smoke endeavoured -to arrive at an understanding of Ray,--how he came to speak German so -well,--what his business in life was,--where he was going, and why? -And, as he had nothing to conceal and felt resentful still of the fat -man’s insinuations, he told them frankly what he was there for. - -Their reserve and soberness over the political outlook impressed him -greatly. He felt more than justified in the decision he had taken as to -Lois. - -He did his best, without being too intrusive, to get at their view of -the future, and they at his. But it was all too pregnant with awful -possibilities, and too obscure and critically in the balance, for very -free speech. From their manner, however, he gathered that, while they -personally desired no interruption of the present prosperous state of -affairs, they doubted if the dispute between Austria and Servia could -be localised, and feared that if Russia supported Servia the fat would -be in the fire. - -“For me, I do not like Prussia and her insolent ways,” said the -Bavarian. “Yon stout one is typical of her. But if she goes, we have to -follow--unfortunately, whether we approve or not. We are all bound up -together, you see, and there you are.” - -And all their discursive chats throughout the day went very little -deeper than that. - -It was a very wearisome journey. Time after time they were shunted into -sidings while long and heavy trains rolled past. And when Ray commented -on it with a surprised, - -“Well!--for a quick through train this is about as poor a specimen as -I’ve ever tumbled on,”--their only comment, as they gazed gloomily out -of the window, was, “The traffic is disorganised for the moment.” - -The stations they passed through were packed with people, and the -military element seemed more in evidence even than usual. - -It was close on five o’clock in the afternoon before they arrived in -Leipsic. The Bavarian had left them at Cassel. The Saxon, as he bade -Ray adieu, said quietly, - -“You may find things more difficult still if you try to return this -way, Herr. If you take my advice you will strike down South into Tirol -and Switzerland, and meanwhile say as little as possible to anyone,” -and with a meaning nod he was gone. - -Ray went along to the Hauffe, secured a room, had a much-needed -bath and dinner, and then set off at once for Frau Helse’s house in -Sebastian Bach Strasse. - -The plump Saxon maid informed him that Fräulein Dare was out, that Frau -Helse was out, that Fräulein Luise was out;--they were in fact all at a -concert at the Conservatorium; and the Herr Lieutenant, he was with his -regiment. So Ray left his card with the name of his hotel scribbled on -it, and Mrs Dare’s letter, and promised to return in the morning. - -Then, after a stroll about the unusually thronged streets, he returned -to his hotel and looked up trains for Switzerland. - - - - -VI - - -Knowing how anxious Lois would be for a fuller understanding of his -coming, Ray set off for Frau Helse’s house the moment he had finished -breakfast next morning. - -Lois had obviously been on tenterhooks till he came. He was hardly -ushered into the stiff, sombre drawing-room, when the door flew open -and she came hastily in. - -“Oh, Ray!”--and he caught her in his arms and kissed her. - -“There is nothing wrong at home?--Mother?--Father?--” she asked -quickly, her anxiety accepting the unusual warmth of his greeting as -somehow appropriate to the circumstances. “Is it only what Mother says, -or----” - -“Just exactly what Mother says, my child, and quite enough too. -Everybody is perfectly well. Our only anxiety is on your account.” - -“And you really think there is going to be trouble?” - -“Uncle Tony is certain we’re in for a general European war,--in fact -for Armageddon foretold of the prophets. And the mere chance of it is -more than enough to make us want you home.” - -She could still hardly quite take it all in. She stood gazing at him in -amazement. - -“And you?--you really think it, Ray?” - -“Nothing’s impossible in these times, and I’m not going to run any -risks where you’re concerned. How soon can you be ready?” - -“I’ll finish my packing at once. I started early this morning, though I -was not at all sure what it all meant.” - -“One moment, Lois,” he said meaningly. “You can trust these people, I -suppose?” - -“Frau Helse? Oh yes. They’re as nice as can be.” - -“Very well then. Pack just your choicest possessions into a small bag -that I can carry, and everything else into your trunk. We’ll leave the -trunk in Frau Helse’s care and take the other with us.” - -“But why not take the trunk also?” she asked in surprise. - -“If matters are as I think, from what I’ve seen, they’re mobilising -here for all they are worth, and the lighter we travel the better. Our -train could hardly get through coming. Going back will be worse. Indeed -I’ve already had it hinted to me that our safest way will be to strike -right down south into Switzerland.” - -“Into Switzerland?” - -“Yes, if things develop rapidly, as they probably will, all the traffic -here will go to pieces--all in the hands of the military, you know. And -you know enough of Germany to know what that means.” - -She nodded thoughtfully, and said, “There’s been something going on -below-ground for some time past. I was sure of it. They said it was -manœuvres, but it looks as if it was a good deal more. I can be all -ready in an hour. Will you see Frau Helse?” - -“Perhaps I’d better, so that she may see I’m at all events respectable -to look at. Then I’ll go to the station and see if the trains are -running all right. You’ve told her, I suppose.” - -“Yes, I showed her Mother’s letter. But she was decidedly shocked at -the idea of my going off alone with any man who wasn’t at least a -cousin.” - -“Oh--cousin! She’ll be more shocked before she sees the end of it all, -maybe.” - -So Lois went away and brought in Frau Helse and Luise, and introduced -Ray to them. They had been mightily surprised at Fräulein Lois’s -news, and Frau Helse--when the two girls had gone off to finish the -packing--let it be seen that she was distinctly doubtful as to the -perfect propriety of allowing her to go off with this good-looking -young Engländer, who was not in any way related to her. However, in the -face of Mrs Dare’s letter she could scarcely raise any objection, and -Ray got away as soon as he could, promising to be back in an hour. - -He had decided to take the friendly Saxon’s advice and make for -Switzerland. He reasoned the matter out thus,--Austria and Servia were -practically at war. Though no formal declaration had yet been made, -the Austrian Legation had left Belgrade. Russia would almost certainly -help Servia. Germany would help Austria. France would help Russia. -Without doubt Germany would endeavour to strike at France quickly and -heavily. She could only do that down south. So all the railway lines -leading thither would be taken over by the military, and ordinary -travellers--and still more especially foreigners--would meet with less -consideration even than usual. - -So he enquired for trains for Munich, intending to get from there into -Tirol, and so into neutral Switzerland. Since the first clash of arms -would undoubtedly come far away to the south on the Servian frontier, -it was reasonable to expect that this remote corner of Austria would -still be comparatively free and open to traffic. - -There was a train at ten o’clock and another at half-past twelve. He -decided on the earlier one, paid his bill at the hotel, and drove off -to Frau Helse’s to secure his prize. - -Lois was waiting for him, all dressed for the journey, and the -slightness of her travelling equipment evoked his surprised eulogiums. - -As they were making for the station, with just comfortable time to -get their tickets, they passed on the sidewalk a man of unforgettable -proportions. - -There was no possibility of mistaking him, but Ray had no desire for -his further acquaintance and permitted no sign of recognition to escape -him. The stout one, however, turned ponderously and looked after them, -and then said a word or two to a policeman. - -Ray had got their tickets, and had despatched a telegram--which never -reached him--to Uncle Tony, saying they were just starting for home via -Munich and Switzerland; and they were waiting impatiently for the doors -of the Wartesaal to be opened to let them through to their train, when -a couple of police-officers came pushing through the throng to Ray and -abruptly requested him to follow them. - -He was taken aback, but knew his Germany and its unpleasant little ways -too well to make trouble. - -“Follow you? Certainly! But why?” - -But they were not there to answer questions, only to carry out orders. - -“Come!” they gruffly insisted, and Ray gave his arm to Lois and went. - -They were put into a carriage and driven away to Police Head-Quarters, -and after a long wait were ushered into the presence of a high -official, who looked worried and overworked. - -“Who and what are you? And what are you doing here?” he asked brusquely. - -Ray supplied him with the desired information. - -“Your passport?” - -“I have none, Herr Head-of-Police,”--he had no idea what his -questioner’s standing might be, but knew that in addressing officials -in Germany you can hardly aim too high. “I left London at almost a -moment’s notice on Saturday morning, to bring this lady home to her -mother. I did not know a passport was necessary.” - -“We have definite information that you are a spy.” - -“From the fat gentleman who insulted me in the train yesterday, I -presume,” said Ray, with a smile. “He tried to sit on me and then -called me names, and I called him Fat-Pig. He had already annoyed -everyone in the carriage, and they all sided against him and told him -what they thought of him. I am no more a spy than he is, mein Herr.... -Stay--here is my return ticket to London dated, as you see, Saturday. -My fiancée has been studying in Leipsic here for the last two years. -She lived with Frau Helse, 119 Sebastian Bach Strasse. Have you your -mother’s letter with you, Lois?”--and she got it out and handed it to -the official. - -He read it carefully and seemed to weigh each word and seek between the -lines for hidden treason. - -“And why is Fräulein Dare leaving so hurriedly?” - -“Her mother wished her at home and we judged there might possibly be -difficulties for a girl travelling alone.” - -“Why?” - -“When there are rumours of war in the air, mein Herr, one’s best place -is in one’s own country. That was how we looked at it.” - -“But the war--if it comes to anything--is far enough from here,” and he -eyed Ray keenly, as though to penetrate his whole mind on the matter. - -“May it remain so!” said Ray earnestly. “But when a fire starts one -never knows for certain how far it will spread.” - -“And you were going to Munich,--towards the danger in fact.” - -“Yes, we were going by Innsbruck and Tirol into Switzerland and -so home. The traffic on the direct lines seems disorganised. The -booking-clerk refused me a ticket via Cologne.” - -“I shall have to keep you awhile till I have made some further -enquiries. If they are satisfactory you will be allowed to proceed. If -not----” - -“Herr Head-of-Police,” pleaded Lois, in her best German, which was very -good indeed, and in her prettiest manner, which was irresistible, “It -is too ridiculous. Herr Luard is a student of law in London. He is the -nephew of Sir Anthony Luard, who lives next door to us at home, and we -are fiancés. That is why he came for me. He is no more a spy than I am. -And Frau Helse will tell you all about me. Fräulein Luise and Ludwig -were across at our home in London last year.” - -He nodded somewhat less officially. “I know Frau Helse, and doubtless -it is all as you say, Fräulein. But we have to be careful in these -days. I trust your detention will not be prolonged.” - -He touched a bell and they were ushered into an adjoining room and left -alone. - -“Looks as if my assistance was not of much use to you, my dear,” -laughed Ray. “I wish I’d smashed Fat-Pig’s ugly old head in. It would -at all events have put him hors-de-combat for a day or two and would -have been a great satisfaction to my feelings as well.” - -“Then I should never have seen you at all,” said Lois. “It will be all -right, I’m sure. Frau Helse will satisfy him. I’m glad he knows her.” - -And an hour later they were released without a word of apology. But it -was enough for them to be free, and they made their way back to the -station in good enough spirits. - -The delay, however, had lost them both the earlier and the later -trains, and the time-tables showed that the next one for the south -would land them at a place called Schwandorf at four o’clock in the -morning, with the remote possibility of reaching Munich six hours -later. There was a fast through train a little after midnight, which, -barring accidents or delays, would get them there a couple of hours -earlier, but after their late experience, and with the chance of -running across their fat friend again, and perhaps becoming further -victims to his pig-headed venom, Ray thought it best to get out of -Leipsic as early as possible, even at cost of a weary night journey -in a train that stopped at every station. Every station would at all -events be that much between them and Pig-Head. - -So they had their mid-day meal in the Station restaurant, and dallied -over it as long as possible, and spent the rest of their time in the -waiting-room, so that the authorities should have no possible pretext -for suspicion. - -They were perfectly happy, however, in one another’s company and the -new relationship which Ray’s coming had jewelled into accepted family -fact. Ray told her all he could think of about home-doings, and was -keen to learn the smallest details of her life in Leipsic, and so -there was no lack of talk between them and the time did not seem long. - -Streams of people passed through the station, mostly men, and mostly in -uniform. Ray saw without seeming to notice, and was confirmed in the -view that great and grave events were brewing. - -Their train was an hour late in starting, and, by reason of many -stoppages and much side-tracking to allow other heavily-laden trains to -pass, was more than two hours late in reaching Schwandorf. - -It was a deadly wearisome journey,--the carriages packed beyond reason, -everyone somewhat on edge with anxiety and excitement, senseless -disputations and bickerings, jokes that lacked humour but led to noisy -quarrelling, no rest for mind or body. They were glad to turn out into -the chill morning air at Schwandorf, only to find the express already -gone and none but slow trains till the 1 p.m. express which would, if -it kept faith, land them in Munich about four in the afternoon. - -They had breakfast and then propped themselves into corners in the -waiting-room and endeavoured to make up for the loss of their night’s -rest. - -The express was not quite so crowded, but even it was frequent captive -to the sidings, and as their fellow-travellers regarded them with -polite but unmistakable suspicion they deemed it wise to keep silence, -and so found the journey very monotonous. And everywhere, from such -glimpses of the country and stations as their middle seats afforded -them, they got the impression of unusual activities and endless -uniforms. - -“Is it always like this?” whispered Ray into Lois’s ear one time, and -she shook her head. - -It was after five o’clock when they at last drew into Munich, and as -they stood in the carriage to let other eager travellers descend, -Lois plucked Ray warningly by the arm, and he saw, rolling along the -platform, the Ponderous One who had already got them into trouble in -Leipsic. - -“Hang the Fat-Pig!” he murmured. “Is there no getting away from him? -What a Thing to be haunted by!” - -They peered out of the window till they saw him roll through the -barrier, and only then ventured to descend and make for the restaurant. -For to be delivered over to the police as suspects here, where they -knew no one, might involve them in endless trouble and delay. The one -thing they desired now, above food or even sleep, was to set foot in a -country where English folk were not looked upon as suspicious outcasts. - -“Can you go on?” asked Ray. “I’m sure you’re dead tired, but----” - -“Oh, let us get on,” she replied, with a touch of the all-prevailing -anxious strain in her voice. “Anything to get out of this horrid -country. They make me feel like a leper.” - -There was a train marked to leave at 5.30 which had not yet started, -and without waiting to get anything to eat, though their last meal -had been early breakfast at Schwandorf, they climbed into a carriage, -thankful at all events at thought of leaving their gross bête-noir -behind in Munich. - -It was close on 11 p.m. when they reached Innsbruck, and Ray led her -straight across to the Tirolerhof, engaged two rooms, boldly registered -their names as Raglan and Lois Luard, and ordered supper,--anything -they had ready, and they fell upon it with a sixteen-hours’ appetite. - -“For the time being,” said Ray, with reference to the name he had -conferred upon her, when the sharpest edge of their hunger was blunted, -“We are brother and sister to the obnoxious outside public. If you -don’t want to be a sister to me you shall tell me so in private. It -strikes me, my dear, that we may possibly not get home quite as quickly -as they will be expecting over there.” - -“If you hadn’t come it looks as though I would never have got home at -all. Oh, I _am_ so glad you came, Ray. What does it all mean, do you -think?” - -“Mighty trouble all round, I fear. They are evidently mobilising here -at top pressure. That means an attack on France. And what that may -mean to us I can’t quite foresee.... We may have to get home through -Italy.... But--Heavens and Earth!--Italy will be into it too. She’s -bound to go in with Germany and Austria.... Do you know what _I_ think, -my child?” - -“No, what? Anything to the point?” - -“Seems to me we may be bottled up here--that is in Switzerland, if -we ever succeed in getting there--for the rest of our lives. What -do you say to getting married as soon as we do get there--if ever, -Miss--er--Luard,--and so regularising the position?” and he looked -whimsically at her. - -“We’ll wait and see, as Mr. Asquith says,” she smiled. “If we really do -get bottled up it may have to come to that.” - -“H’m! And I was hoping you’d jump at the chance!” - -“It’s rather sudden, you see, and a bit overwhelming. We’ve only been -really engaged since yesterday morning....” - -“Oh ho! That so? But you knew all about it. Now didn’t you?” - -“A girl can never really know quite all about it, you know, until she -is asked. She may know her own side of the matter----” - -“As you did.” - -“And she may have every confidence in--er--the other side----” - -“As you had.” - -“But----” - -“But me no buts, my child! I consider my idea an eminently sensible -one. You think it over.... And consider all the advantages!--no fuss, -no wedding-breakfast, no hideous publicity. Just a quiet wedding and -right into the blissfullest honeymoon that ever was. Heavenly!” - -“Well, I’ll think it over, and we’ll see how we go on. What time do we -start in the morning?” - -“There’s a train at 9.45, but it only goes as far as Feldkirch. And -there’s a fast train at 1.15 which should land us in Zurich some time -after 8.” - -“Let us take the 1.15, then we can have a good rest. I’m awfully tired.” - -“One-fifteen it is. And you don’t need to get up till ten,--eleven, if -you like,” and he escorted her upstairs to her room. - -“Do brothers and sisters kiss at your house?” he whispered at the door. -“They don’t at ours.” - -“Nor at ours,” and she put up her face to be kissed. - -Innsbruck was as yet fairly quiet. The garrison had gone and had been -replaced by men of the reserve; most of the visitors had taken fright -and fled; a few bewildered--or phlegmatic--English and Americans were -left, but the empty streets and the anxious and preoccupied looks of -the women gave the pleasant little town an unusual and dreary aspect, -and our travellers were glad to be en route for a land less likely to -be disturbed by alarms and excursions and all the fears of war. - - - - -VII - - -When Lois came down next morning she found Ray on the front doorstep, -deep in conversation with an elderly gentleman of most impressive -appearance. He was tall and straight, and had white hair and beard and -moustache, a very kindly face, and extremely polished manners. When he -spoke, an occasional very slight nasal intonation, which none but a -well-trained ear would have detected, suggested the United States--most -likely Boston, she thought, since it reminded her of a Boston girl with -whom she had been friendly at the Conservatorium. - -Ray unblushingly introduced her as his sister, and said, - -“Our friend here is advising me to change our route, Lois.” - -“Oh--why?” she asked, looking up a little anxiously into the pleasant, -interested face. - -“Because, my dear young lady, I got through from Bâle myself only late -last night, and not without difficulty. The situation is becoming -worse every hour. Austria declared war against Servia yesterday. What -that may lead to no man knows,--unless, perhaps, the Kaiser and his -advisers. And even they are not absolutely omniscient. It may all peter -out as it has done before, but I am bound to say that this time I fear -Germany means business, and if she does it will mean very grim and -ghastly business indeed. Mobilisation is going on quietly and quickly, -everywhere, even in Switzerland. The clash will come on the French -frontier if it comes at all, and I believe it to be inevitable. The -Swiss fear for their neutrality, and their fears are justifiable. If -it suits Germany’s book she will trample across Swiss or any other -territory that happens to be in her way.” - -“But--it is too amazing. Why should Germany break out like this?” - -“Simply because she thinks her time is ripe. Some of us have been -expecting this war for years past. Now it is upon us.” - -“And how do you think we ought to go?” - -“I was just telling your brother that any attempt to get through on any -of the direct routes is quite out of the question. Every carriage and -truck on every line is packed with soldiers. Your best way, I think, -will be to get across country. Make for the Rhone Valley and get down -to Montreux or Geneva, and wait there till things settle down somewhat, -when you will be able no doubt to get across France and so home.” - -“It means footing it, Lois. How does it strike you?” said Ray. - -She knitted her brows prettily while she considered the matter. It was -certainly all very disturbing. - -“And are you going across country also?” she asked the American -gentleman. - -“No. I’m going back to my home in Meran. I have lived there for the -last five years, and my wife is there. I had to run over to London on -some business, and I’m glad to have got back in time. Another day and -it might have been impossible.” - -“And how long will it take to walk from here to the Rhone Valley?” - -“You can still get a train to Landeck. Then strike right up the Lower -Engadine Valley,-- Stay! I’ll show you on the map,” and he turned to -the one on the wall. “Now,--see!--you go first to Landeck. Then follow -up the Inn to Süss. Then strike across by the Flüela Pass to Davos, -and then by the Strela Pass to Chur. Then by Ilanz and Disentis to the -Gothard. There are no difficulties. The roads are good. It will be an -exceedingly fine walk.” - -“What about our bags?” asked Lois. - -“Get a couple of rucksacs. Pack in as much as you can carry, and the -rest.... You could have them forwarded from here. But I should be very -doubtful if they’d ever reach you in the present state of matters.... -Would you care to leave them in my charge? I will take them to my house -and send them on as soon as things settle down.” - -And he pulled out his pocket-book and handed Ray his card--Charles D. -Lockhart. Schloss Rothstein. Meran. - -“I came across a very fine book on Tirol by a Mr Lockhart not long -since----” began Ray. - -“Quite right! I have written much on Tirol. Since I made my home here -I have grown very fond of both the country and the people. I fervently -hope we shall have no more than back-wash of the war here. But there’s -no telling. Once the spark is in the stubble the flames may spread -wide.” - -“We are greatly indebted to you, Mr Lockhart,” said Ray, “and since you -are so good we will take advantage of your very kind offer. That is--if -you can get all you will want till we get to Montreux into a rucksac, -Lois.” - -“I’ll manage all right.” - -So they all had breakfast together, and much talk of the gigantic -possibilities the near future might hold if it came to a universal war. -Then, under their new friend’s experienced guidance, they made a quick -round of the shops, bought rucksacs, alpenstocks, a Loden cloak each, -and had their boots nailed in Swiss fashion. - -By the time they had packed their rucksacs and repacked their bags it -was time for Mr Lockhart to catch his train for Botzen and Meran, and -they accompanied him to the station and said good-bye to him and their -property. - -And when the train had disappeared they looked at one another and burst -out laughing. - -“I’m sure it’s quite all right,” laughed Lois, “But it does feel odd -to send off all one’s belongings like that with a man one never set -eyes on till an hour ago.” - -“It’s quite all right, my dear. I’d trust that old fellow with all I -have--even with you. He’s a fine old boy, and we’ve got to thank him -for putting us on to a gorgeous trip. Nothing like padding it for -seeing the country!” - -And an hour later they had turned their backs on Landeck and the snow -peaks of the Lechtaler Alps, and were footing it gaily up the right -bank of the roaring Inn, with the northern spurs of the Oetztaler -towering up in front of them beyond the dark mouth of the Kaunser-Tal. - -It was a gray day and none too warm, but excellent weather for walking, -and there was in them an exuberant spirit of relief at having shaken -off the trammels of ordinary life and left behind, for the time being -at all events, the gathering war-clouds and ominous preparations. If -it had rained in torrents they would still have been perfectly happy, -for that which was within them was proof against outside assault of any -kind whatsoever. - -It was a lonely walk, and so the more delightful to them. They desired -no company but their own. Beyond an occasional man of the hills -hastening towards Landeck, with sober face, coat slung by its arms at -his back, and jaunty cock-feathered hat on the back of his head, they -did not meet a soul till they came to Ladis. - -As a rule these hurrying ones passed them with a preoccupied ‘Grüss -Gott!’ and a hungry look which craved news but grudged the time. - -One stopped for a moment and asked anxiously, “Is it true, then, Herr? -Is it war?” - -And Ray answered him, “With Servia, yes! How much more no man knows.” - -“War is the devil,” said the man soberly, and hurried on. - -They talked cheerfully,--of the folks at home and all the recent -happenings there,--dived into happy reminiscence of their own feelings -towards one another, and how and when and where these had begun to -crystallise into the radiant certainty of mutual love,--and more than -once, in the solitude of the little mountain sanctuaries where they -stopped at times for a rest, Ray caught her to him and kissed her -passionately in the overflowing fulness of his heart. - -It was the most entrancing walk Lois had ever had, and the glow in her -face and the star-shine in her eyes told their own tale. - -They crossed the river where the road wound away into Kaunser-Tal, and -again by the bridge at Prutz, and six o’clock found them within sight -of the castle of Siegmundsried, with the pretty little village of Ried -below. - -“We’ll stop the night there,” said Ray. “We’ve done about ten miles and -all uphill, and that’s quite enough for a first day. How are the feet?” - -“First rate. I feel as if I could go on for ever.” - -“If you went on for ever you’d wish you hadn’t next day. We’ve got a -long way to go and there’s no great hurry,--unless you feel as if you’d -like to get it over and done with.” - -“Oh, but I don’t. I’d like it to last for ever and ever.” - -“Mr and Mrs Wandering Jew,” laughed Ray. “What would your mother say?” - -“She would say, ‘She’ll be all right since she’s with Ray.’” - -“See what it is to have a good character,” and they turned into the -‘Post’ and demanded rooms and supper. - -Next day they walked on, first on one side of the river, then on the -other, loitering on every bridge to watch the gray water roaring among -the worn gray rocks below. - -They ate their lunch on the terrace of the little inn at Stuben, -looking across at Pfunds lying in the mouth of the valley opposite. And -when they came to the Cajetan Bridge, instead of crossing it with the -high-road, Ray kept to the old path along the left bank, through the -narrow Finstermünz Pass, and made straight for Martinsbruck, and so -avoided the long bends and steep zig-zags leading to and from Nauders -in the mouth of the Stillebach Valley. - -It was rough walking, but he explained, - -“It cuts off a lot, you see, and when we cross that bridge at -Martinsbruck we’re in Switzerland.” - -“That sounds like getting near home,” said Lois. - -“It’s a neutral country anyway, and maybe we’ll get news there of -what’s really happening. But it’s a good long way from home. I believe -you’re tired of tramping already.” - -“Am I? Do I look it?” - -“You do not. But you look as though a kiss would encourage you--to say -nothing of me.”... - -The tops and sides of the mountains had been wreathed with -smoke-coloured clouds all day. It was only as they drew near to -Martinsbruck that the evening sun struggled out, and they saw a peak -here and there soaring up above the clouds and all aglow with crimson -fire,--a wonderful and uplifting vision. - -“The Delectable Mountains,” murmured Lois, at this her first sight of -the alpen-glüh. - -“Our Promised Land lies the other way,” said Ray, “But we’ll carry our -own glory-fire with us.” - -They stood watching till the red glow faded swiftly up the summits of -the cloud-borne peaks and left them chill and ghostly, and Lois heaved -a sigh of regret. - -“Wait!” said Ray, with his hand on her arm; and in a minute or two the -cold white mountain-tops flushed all soft rose-pink, so exquisitely -sweet and tender that Lois caught her breath and laid her hand in his, -as though she must fain share so exquisite a joy with him. - -“How lovely!” she whispered, profoundly moved by the sight and the warm -grip of his hand, through which his heart seemed to beat up into hers. -“The sun’s last warm good-night kiss! Oh, if they could only be like -that always!” - -“Then we would not enjoy them half as much. Don’t watch it fade,” and -they turned and went. “We will always remember it at its best.... Life -is to be like that with you and me, right on and on and on for ever. -It is a good omen. And here,”--as they crossed the bridge--“we are in -Switzerland, and this little Post Hotel will serve us excellently.” - -Those solitary suppers in the common-rooms of the little wayside inns -were things to remember. Not so much for the quality of the viands -and the wine, though they never had a fault to find with either, but -because of the cheerful goodfellowship and delightful camaraderie they -engendered. And there was without doubt a subtle crown of joy to it -all, in the feeling that here they were doing something out of the -common, something that would possibly administer some slight shock to -the nerves of Mrs Grundy if she had been aware of it. - -Their procedure, however, was not so unusual as they in their innocence -imagined. - -As they sat over their meal that night in the Post at Martinsbruck, -there came in two later arrivals who presently joined them at table,--a -strapping young fellow of five-and-twenty and a very pretty girl of a -year or two less, with large blue eyes and abundant fair hair coiled in -great plaits round her head, and they were soon all chatting together -on the friendliest of terms. - -These two were tramping also and had come up that day from Süss. - -“A good walk that, mein Herr, for little feet!” said the young man, -looking proudly at his companion. “Thirty-eight kilomètres, I make it, -perhaps a trifle more.” - -“Twenty-four miles!” said Ray. “Yes, that’s a good long stretch. Twenty -miles,--say thirty, thirty-two kilomètres--is our longest. But then -we’re only just beginning.” - -“And we are just ending,” sighed the girl. “He has to go to the army. -Do you think it will be a bad war, mein Herr?” she asked anxiously. - -“All war is bad, mein Frau,” began Ray. - -“Fräulein,” she corrected him with a little smile. “I am Anna Santner. -He is Karl Stecher. We are of Innsbruck.” - -“And in another month--in September--she is to be Frau Stecher,” said -Karl with a broader smile. “We are taking a portion of our honeymoon -in advance. To see how we get on together, you understand. It is not -unusual with us----” - -“And I am sure you have got on very well together,” said Lois, with her -prettiest smile. - -“Oh, yes. You see, we love one another very much,” said Anna. “But -now--! What do you think of it, mein Herr?” - -“We can all only hope it will not be as bad as some people fear, -Fräulein. But, at best, it is bad.” - -“Yes, war is bad,” said the young fellow, with gloomy vehemence. “It is -devil’s play from beginning to end. Still, those Serbs had no right to -shoot our Archduke, you know, and they deserve a whipping.” - -“Possibly. But the danger is that it may spread. If Russia takes -umbrage, then Germany will join in, and Italy and France.” - -“And your country? What will you do?” asked Stecher. - -“I do not know. We certainly don’t want war, but if it comes to a -general struggle we may be in it too. It is horrible to think of. -In these days--all Europe at one another’s throats! It is almost -inconceivable.” - -“Du meine Güte!” said Anna, clasping her hands tightly together. “It is -too terrible. What will happen to me if you get killed, my Karl?” and -she could hardly see him for the tears that filled her large blue eyes. - -“I don’t feel a bit like getting killed, my little one, I assure you.” - -“That won’t stop those horrid bullets, all the same.” - -“Ach, my Nanna, don’t weep for me before it begins anyway! Let us talk -of something else.... And you, Herr and Frau?--Fräulein?--you are -married?--yes?--no?--or have you this same pleasant custom with you?” - -“Like you,” said Ray, “we are to be married very soon, and we are -having our honeymoon in advance. You see, the Fräulein was in Leipsic, -studying, when we heard this ill rumour of war. And her mother gave -me permission to go and bring her home. And as they are mobilising in -Germany----” - -“Ah--they are mobilising?” jerked Stecher with a nod. - -“We were advised to get back through Switzerland, and here we are.” - -“We also were in Switzerland,” sighed Anna, reminiscently. - -“You came over Flüela?” asked Ray. “How’s the walking there? That’s how -we are going.” - -“It is a good enough road,” said Stecher, “but you will need a full day -from this end. It is all up hill, you see, and pretty stiff. You must -get as far as Süss to-morrow night and start early next day. We stayed -at the Flüela. It is quite good and not dear. And you can rest and eat -at the Hospice under the Weisshorn. Oh, it is all quite easy. I wish we -were going that way too.” - -“Ach Gott--yes!” sighed Fräulein Anna. And Lois’s heart was sore for -her, for her future and Karl’s was bound to contain possibilities of -sorrow and misfortune, and she would have liked everyone to be as happy -as she was herself. - -And next morning, in the strong fellow-feeling of somewhat similar -circumstances, they shook hands and parted almost like old -friends,--none of them knowing to what they were going. - -The four-and-twenty uphill miles from Martinsbruck to Süss were -somewhat of a tax on Lois. They were on the road soon after seven, -however, as Karl and Anna also had to be off early, and with occasional -halts they made Schuls before mid-day, had a good dinner there and a -long rest on the terrace of the hotel, with all the noble peaks, from -Piz Lad opposite Martinsbruck to Piz Nuna opposite Süss, spread wide -before them. They were at Ardetz in time for an early cup of tea and -another rest, and reached Süss before sunset. - -But long as the way was they enjoyed every rough step of it. For one -thing it was a brighter day of mixed cloud and sunshine, which wrought -most wonderful atmospheric effects on the soaring peaks and sweeping -mountain-sides. Their road wound along the flanks of the Silvretta. -Below them the Inn foamed white among its gray boulders. Innumerable -valleys, each with its thread of rushing white water, debouched on -either side and gave them wonderful peeps at the monarchs behind--the -Oetztalers, the Ortlers, and the Silvrettas. Running water was -everywhere--gray glacier streams and sparkling falls, and every here -and there, on spurs of hills and vantage points, were the grim ruins of -castles that had played their parts in the days of the Grey Leaguers -and the Ten Droitures. - -But all this delectable outward circumstance was no more than exquisite -setting for that which was within them, and each of these reacted -on the other. Never had they found such charm in their surroundings -before. Never before had surroundings so charming had such effect upon -their spirits and feelings. - -They went along hand in hand at times like country lovers, and more -than once their hearts broke into song as spontaneous as the lark’s, -from simple joy of living. - -Lois’s voice, in the full rounded beauty of its two years’ careful -cultivation at the Conservatorium, was a revelation to Ray and thrilled -him to the depths. - -“My dear,” he said deeply, one time, “You have a gift of the gods. It -would be a sin against humanity to deprive the world of it.” - -“Oh, you will let me sing even after we are married.” - -“Let you!... Am I a traitor to my kind? Let you, indeed! You will lift -men’s souls with that voice. The world has need of you, my child, and -what am I to say it nay?” - -“You’re the world to me. I’m glad it pleases you.” - -And maybe the menacing war-cloud, which could not be entirely excluded -from their minds, but served to brighten their radiant enjoyment of -that perfect day. Stars shine brightest in a winter-black sky. - - - - -VIII - - -They took the road very early again next morning, and turning their -backs on the ruined castle of Süss and the triple peaks of Piz Mezdi, -climbed steadily up past the long snow-galleries till they came to the -mouth of the dreary Grialetsch Valley, with ragged Piz Vadret at its -head; and there, with their backs against the road-mender’s hut, they -sat for a long half-hour’s rest and the chance of passing a few words, -for the road had claimed their breath as they climbed. - -It was all so lonely, so peaceful, so aloof from the storm and stress -of life, and so altogether delightful, that it was only now and again -that the appalling reason for their being there obtruded itself upon -them. And whenever it did so it came with something of a shock. - -They had in themselves endless gardens of delight to ramble through, -and it was, “--Do you remember that day at ----, Ray?” and “--I tell -you, old girl, you gave me some rotten quarters-of-an-hour while that -stuck-up little ramrod of a lieutenant was buzzing about you!”--and so -on and so on,--every recollection rosy now with the joy of complete -understanding, though at the time one and another had been anything but -joyful. - -The old road-mender came trudging up from his work while they still sat -there. He nodded benevolently with something of a twinkle in his eye, -as though he could still recall similar times of his own, and gave them -a cordial “Grüss Gott!” - -“We’re doing our best to hold your house up for you,” said Ray. - -“So I see, Herr and Fräulein, and it is quite at your service. -Everybody puts their backs against it after climbing from below. You -are from Süss this morning?” - -“From Süss this morning, and yesterday from Martinsbruck, and the day -before that from Ried, and the day before that from Innsbruck,” said -Ray. - -“It is a long walk. But when one is young---- I also have been to -Innsbruck. It is a great city. But there are too many people. They -fall over one another in the streets. I like my mountains better and -just one or two people a day. Thanks, Herr!”--at Ray’s offer of a -cigar--“With permission I will smoke it later. I am going to eat now,” -and he put it carefully away into his waistcoat pocket and got out -bread and cheese from his little house, and sat and ate and talked. - -“I had a Herr and a Fräulein here, yesterday,” he said reminiscently. -“No, it was the day before----” - -“We met them at Martinsbruck.” - -“They were hastening home in fear of some war. But I did not clearly -make out what it was all about. Is there going to be war, Herr?” - -“I’m afraid it looks rather like it. That is why we are hastening home -also.” - -“But what is it all about, Herr? And why, in the name of God, do men -want to fight in these times?” - -“Ah! Now that is a big question, my friend, and it would take a lot of -answering. But, so far as we know at present, it is only Austria that -wants to fight. You heard of the Archduke and his wife being shot, down -in Bosnia?” - -“I heard of that. I was sorry. I have had them here. They sat with -their backs against the house just as you are doing. They seemed nice -enough people. He gave me five kroner for sitting against my house----” - -“Ah!--he was an archduke and rolling in money.” - -“I did not mean it that way, Herr. I do not want anything for people -sitting against my house. It is a pleasure to me to have a word with -them. There are not too many, you see.” - -“It is not like Innsbruck where they fall over one another in the -streets,” smiled Lois. - -“No, it is not like Innsbruck, Fräulein, and I am glad of that. But why -should their being shot make the rest want to fight?” - -“That is only the pretext,” said Ray. “Austria wants to stretch herself -down south. In fact, I suppose, what she really wants is to get to the -sea, and Servia lies in her way.” - -“If all men lived among the mountains they would learn a great many -things you never learn down below there. I think one is nearer God up -here, Herr and Fräulein.” - -“I’m sure of it,” said Lois. - -“But even the mountains have heard the sound of fighting,” said Ray, to -draw him on. - -“If the men from below wanted to take our rights from us we would fight -again of course. But they are not likely to come up here, are they, -Herr?” - -“Not up here, I should say. The trouble is, you see, that if Austria -attacks Servia, Russia will probably intervene, and then Germany will -come in, and so France, and possibly Great Britain. We hope not, but -one can never tell.” - -“Herrgott! That sounds bad,” and the rough hand and big clasp-knife, -which had been mechanically feeding the slow-munching jaws, stopped in -mid-air and he sat staring at them. “Servians I do not know,” he said -presently. “Russians I have had here, and Frenchmen, and Austrians, and -many English, and all those I have found good. But Germans, of whom I -have had still more, I do not like.... And yet I hardly know why,” he -mused. “Their manners are not good, it is true; but it is something -more than that. Well, I don’t know--it is just that I do not like them -and perhaps they perceive it.” - -“It is a very general feeling,” said Ray. - -“Is it now? Well, that is strange, but it shows it is they who are -somehow in the wrong.” - -“They don’t think so,” laughed Ray, as he drew Lois to her feet by both -hands. “We must be jogging on or we won’t reach Davos to-night.” - -The old man firmly but politely declined Ray’s offer of a mark, saying, -“I thank you, Herr, but there is no need. It has been a great pleasure -to talk with you and the Fräulein,” and, not to tarnish so bright and -unusual a trait, Ray did not press the matter, but offered him instead -another cigar which was accepted at once as between man and man, and -they all shook hands and parted. - -They crossed the river and threaded their way through a rock-strewn -valley, and up and on, with the Weisshorn towering white on the right -and the Schwarzhorn on the left. Then they passed two little lakes, the -one on the right clear as crystal, the one on the left greenish-white -and opaque, which Ray told her was glacier-water while the other was -probably fed by hidden springs. - -They had lunch and another long rest at the Hospice, and then began the -easy ten-mile stretch to Davos, through long stretches of pine-woods, -dropping with the stream till it joined the Landwasser at Davos-Dorf, -where they took the omnibus for Davos-Platz. - -“We’ll go to the Grand,” said Ray,--“clothes or no clothes. We’re sure -to find English people there and we’ll learn what’s going on in the -world outside.” - -So to the Grand, and sumptuous rooms and meals, though the very trim -young gentleman in the office and the pompous head-waiter did look -somewhat superciliously at their lack in the matter of wedding-garments. - -But breeding tells where uttermost perfection in attire without it -makes no headway at all, and by the time dinner was over they were on -the best of terms with their nearest neighbours, who were delighted -to find someone who had had no news of the world’s doings for several -days and were therefore eager and receptive listeners. And afterwards -they sat in the lounge while a Canon, and a Doctor, and a Barrister, -and a Colonel on the retired list,--who knew Uncle Tony very well by -repute and asked Ray at once if he were related to Sir Anthony Luard as -soon as he heard his name,--and several of their wives and daughters, -fed them volubly with fairy-tales and fictions, some of which had some -small substratum of fact, but mostly they were snowball legends which -had grown out of all knowledge as they passed from mouth to mouth. - -Their latest English papers were three days old. Swiss and German -papers they had as late as July 30, but the news in them was for the -most part vague and unsatisfying to souls that craved simple actual -fact as to what was going on behind the veiled frontiers. Local letters -were arriving, but none from England since July 28. - -Lois and Ray sat and listened but got little from all the talk that -went on. The general opinion--to which the Colonel stoutly refused -to conform--was that things looked decidedly unpleasant but that, -somehow or other, Great Britain would manage not to be drawn into -any such awful mess as a European war. Sir Edward Grey had handled -the Balkan affair admirably, and though they were all on the -opposite side in politics, they one and all,--not excepting even the -Colonel--acknowledged that he was the very best possible man for his -difficult and delicate post. - -The Colonel however dogmatically prophesied war all round. - -“We can no more get out of it,” he said warmly, “than we can any of us -get home for some months to come.” - -“Do you really think we can’t get home?” asked Lois anxiously. - -“Think--my dear young lady?--I’m as sure of it as I am that I’m -sitting here and expect to be still sitting here, or somewhere in this -neighbourhood, two months hence. You see,”--and he proceeded to prove, -beyond any possibility of doubt, that--granted the general war he was -so certain of--every outlet--north, east, west, and south,--would be -already blocked by the urgencies of mobilisation, and that until all -the troops of the various nations were massed along the frontiers -traffic across the denuded countries behind would be out of the -question. - -“Martial law everywhere,” said he, “and thank God we’re not in Germany!” - -“There won’t be any difficulty in getting about in Switzerland, I -suppose,” said Ray. - -“Not on your own two feet. The diligences may stop any day. They’ll -want every horse they can lay hands on. They’re sure to mobilise at -once, just as they did in 1870. Every man they have will be on the -frontiers yonder, from Schaffhausen to Basel, and round the corner -towards Pontarlier, and again in all the passes leading from Italy. -It’s curious how they fear and detest the Italians. I met a young -fellow the other day who went across to Tripoli solely to get a whack -at the Italians, and got a bullet through the calf which he insisted -on showing me. You see,” he said to Ray, “we can’t possibly keep out -of it, for the simple reason that Germany will certainly try to get at -France through Belgium----” - -“That’s just what Uncle Tony says.” - -“Of course. Every military man who has studied the question knows that -is their game. Russia is slow, and Germany’s plan is to smash France -into little bits right away, then go for Russia, and then of course -for us. Oh, it’s all been mapped out to the last haystack for years, I -warrant you, while we’ve been swallowing their bunkum and persuading -ourselves they are really very decent quiet people something like -ourselves, who only want to be let alone to go their own gentle way.” - -“And what’s your idea of the prospects all round, Colonel?” - -But at that the Colonel shook his head. “Germany is the principal -factor in the case and I don’t know her well enough to express an -opinion. If she’s really as strong and well-organised as she thinks -she is, and as most people believe, it will be a red-hot business. -Austria I don’t think much of from what I’ve seen. Italy I do not know -well. But I’m sure they’re not hankering for the expense of a big -war. France is better than some folks think. Adversity has taught her -something.” - -“And England?” asked Ray, as the oracle lapsed into silence. - -“England is, as usual, not ready. And besides she is not anxious -for continental adventure. If England had hearkened to some of us -old croakers--Jingoes and firebrands and scaremongers, we’ve been -called,--she would be a decisive factor in the game. As it is----” - -“Oh come! What about our fleet, Colonel?” said the Canon, whose eldest -boy was second lieutenant on the “Audacious,” and his youngest a middy -on the “Queen Mary.” - -“Our fleet’s all right, thanks to Churchill. But you can’t utilise a -fleet, say at Belfort or Nancy or on the borders of Belgium.” - -“What about Belgium?” asked Ray. “Has she any fight in her?” - -“I have never imagined so. If old Leopold were alive the Germans would -have a walk-over and the old boy’s coffers would be fuller than ever. -This new man--of whom I know very little--may be of a different kidney. -But what can he do against Germany? She would simply roll over him if -he tried to stand up for his rights. It would be sheer madness on his -part.” - -“Divine madness!” said the Canon musingly. “Such things at times effect -wonders beyond the understanding of man.” - -“And with England and France to back her up, and Russia piling in on -the other side----” said Ray. - -“There you are,” said the Colonel, “--practically a European war.” - -Mrs Canon had meanwhile been quietly and unobtrusively, but none the -less pertinaciously, affording Lois opportunities of explaining the -exact nature of her relationship to Ray. And two vivacious Misses -Canon, with their sympathies already openly given to the victim, -eagerly awaited developments. - -But Lois saw no reason for any beating about the bush. She explained -the matter in full, acknowledging somewhat of irregularity in their -proceedings but smilingly suggesting that if the war gave no one -grounds for greater complaint they would all be very well off. - -“How ripping!” said the younger girl, with dancing eyes. - -“Katharine, my _dear_!” said her mother reprovingly. - -“Absolutely and perfectly delectable!” asserted her sister, quite -unabashed by the maternal disapproval. “I just wish----” - -“Madeleine!” - -And Madeleine’s envious desires remained locked in the secrecy of her -maiden heart until she and Katharine went upstairs to bed that night. -But she and her sister could not make enough of Lois for the rest of -the evening, and their eyes rested on her caressingly and longingly as -though by much looking they might possibly absorb some of her obvious -happiness. - -“It must be delightful beyond words,” whispered Katharine. - -“It is,” beamed Lois. - -“Just like a honeymoon, only more so,” sighed Madeleine rapturously. - -“Just all that.” - -“And you were at the Conservatorium at Leipsic!” said Katharine. - -“I had nearly completed my two years there. It was a very jolly time. I -enjoyed it every bit.” - -“Do come and sing something for us. There’s a music-room over there and -quite a decent piano.” - -“I don’t mind. I love singing,” and they slipped quietly away to the -music-room and shut themselves in. - -But no doors made by man could contain the full rounded sweetness of -that fresh young voice, and presently the handle was quietly turned -from the outside and the door pushed noiselessly open so that the -multitude beyond might share in the enjoyment of it. - -She had no music with her, of course, and what lay about--the jetsam of -the years--did not appeal to her. So she played and sang some of the -old Scotch songs dear to her mother, and they went right home to the -hearts of some of her listeners as perhaps the more stately productions -of the greater masters would not have done. - -Between times, on the expectant silence of the hall, there would -trickle from the inner sanctuary a subdued murmur of talk and now and -again a ripple of laughter, and then the chords would sound again and -the full sweet voice would peal out gloriously, and hearts swelled -large in sympathy with it. - -She wound up with “Home, Sweet Home!” and before some of her listeners -had finished using their handkerchiefs in various furtive and -surreptitious ways, she was pealing out “God save the King!” like -a trumpet-call, and “By Gad, sir! It went!”--as the Colonel said -afterwards. - -“My dear!” said the Canon, as he thanked her very warmly for the -pleasure she had given them. “You have a God-given gift. You can touch -the hearts of men and lift them to higher things. That is a wonderful -power for good.” - -“I love singing,” said Lois simply. - -“Or you could not sing like that,” said the Canon. “Your joyous young -heart is in your voice.” - -As the following day was Sunday, and their next march would take them -once more into the wilds--over the Strela and by Schanfiggthal to Chur -and then up Rheinthal to Andermatt,--they decided to take a rest-day -where they were, in the hope that further news from the outside world -might arrive before Monday morning. - -Nothing came, however, except the Berne newspapers, which hinted at -mobilisation in Russia, and told of the murder of M. Jaurès in Paris. -Even these scraps of news, however, afforded the Colonel ground for -ample comment, and that of the gloomiest character, on the general -outlook. - -“Jaurès,” he said, “was a great leader and he worked hard for a better -understanding between France and Germany. His removal, at this crisis -and in this fashion, seems to point to a fanatical revulsion of feeling -against his ideas. That means that the tinder is ready for the match. -If Russia is mobilising, Germany will follow suit, if she has not done -so already. The fat may be in the fire at any moment. For all we know -the fire may have broken out now, even while we sit here discussing -it.” Which made them all unusually thoughtful. - -And as a matter of fact, with good reason. For Germany had declared war -on Russia at 7.30 the previous night. - -“Which way were you thinking of going?” the Colonel asked Ray, over -their cigars in the lounge that night. - -“First to Chur. Then up the valley to Andermatt, over the Furka, and -down the Rhone Valley to Montreux.” - -“That’s your best way. The East and North of France will certainly be -closed. You may eventually get through by the Midi. But you’ll probably -have to wait even for that. It’ll be a terrible upsetting all round. -And I wish to God we could keep out of it, because we’re not ready. But -we can’t. I’m as certain of that as that I’m sitting here.” - -“It’ll be an awful business if it comes to a general scrap,” said Ray. - -“Yes. I’ve seen fighting in several parts of the world and it’s grim -business at best, but this will beat anything we’ve ever imagined, if -I know anything about it. Germany is just a huge fighting-machine, and -she’ll fight like the devil. If Russia is in, France is in, and that -almost certainly means we’re in too. How do you stand yourself, Mr. -Luard?” - -“I’m in the London Scottish,--lieutenant. Do you think they’ll want us?” - -“Pretty sure to,--sooner or later,--every man that’s available. How -long have you had?” - -“Four years.” - -“You should know your business fairly well. I think you’ll have to -reckon on a call. You’ll go if needed?” - -“Of course.” - -Which brought the possibilities very close home and made Ray Luard a -very thoughtful man that night. - -Next day they bade their friends good-bye, such of them as were up -at so early an hour. And the Colonel and Katharine and Madeleine -walked with them through the freshness of the morning by the winding -forest-paths up Schatzalp, and were loth to part with them even on the -top. - -The Colonel, indeed,--whose youth lay away back amid the mists of -antiquity, and whose years had discovered to him the existence of a -heart that pumped on up-gradients, and a certain stiffness in the -legs which filled him with wrath,--called them to many a halt to view -the scenery. His hearty good-will was so obvious, however, that they -complied with his necessities and accommodated their pace to his -without regret; and the girls buzzed about Lois with outspoken envy of -her happy lot, and vehemently regretted that they could not go and do -likewise in every particular. - -At the restaurant on top they drank a parting cup of coffee together, -and then Ray and Lois set their faces towards the long ascent of the -Strela, and the others stood and waved to them till they were out of -sight. - -“Do you know what the old boy was saying, Lois?” Ray broke out as soon -as they were quite alone. - -“No. What?” - -“He’s quite certain that England will have to go into the scrap, and -that she’ll need every man she can put into the fighting-line. And I’m -one of them, you see.” - -“Oh!--Ray!” and she stopped in her tracks, and stood gazing at him with -sudden woe in her face. - -“It brings it close home to one, doesn’t it, dear?” he said quietly, -pressing her arm tight to his heart. “I’ve been thinking about it all -night. It will be hard on us, but if the call comes I must go.” - -“Yes ...” she said, slowly and reluctantly; sense of duty prevailing, -with obvious difficulty, over her heart’s desire. “You must go.... -But, oh,--it will be hard to let you go ... just when we’ve come -to know one another, and life is at its brightest.... Oh, my dear! -Suppose....” - -“We won’t suppose anything of the kind,” he said cheerfully. “Life -is not long enough at its longest to waste one minute of it on -forebodings. But I named this, dear, because it seems to me that it -settles for us the question I raised the other day. Unless you say no, -we’ll get married as soon as we get to Montreux.” - -“Yes!” she said simply, and the matter was settled. - -And, in the feeling of still warmer and closer companionship that -thereby came upon them, they climbed on up the Strela, and down the -steep zig-zags on the other side to the Haupter Alp, and down and down -past Schmitten and Dörfli, first this side of the river, then the -other, till they came to the Schanfiggthal and Langwies, where they -stopped for lunch and a long rest. - -It was as they were coming down the hillside to Castiel that Lois had a -quaint experience which Ray laughingly hoped would teach her a lesson. - -They came suddenly on an immense herd of goats, whose bells they had -heard tinkling far away below them for half an hour or more. Captivated -by the graceful activities of a black and white kid, which sprang up -a high rock at the side of the road and posed there like a little -Rodin, with its glassy eyes fixed vaguely on them, Lois produced a -biscuit from her pocket and proffered it to the youngster. He sniffed -doubtfully, nibbled eagerly, and leaped down for more. And in an -instant she was the centre of a writhing mass of goats, who pushed and -reared themselves against her and would take no denial. - -At first she laughed and pushed them off with her hands. Then it got -beyond a joke. She gave them all she had, but they wanted more. Like -the Danes and Ethelred, payment to go only drew them in larger numbers. -Ray did his best to drag them back and get her clear, but they pushed -and struggled and reared, with weirdest determination in their strange -eyes and curving horns, till Lois grew somewhat startled. - -“Stupid beasts! Don’t you understand? You’ve had it all,” and she shook -her empty hands in their stolid straining faces. They pushed all the -harder. She grew frightened, especially when she saw the futility of -Ray’s efforts. - -It was his angry shouts, as he laid about on their bony ribs and backs -with his alpenstock, that at last drew a small boy in velveteens and -a slouch hat round the corner, and at a shrill whistle from him the -beasts came to their senses and left their victim hot and dishevelled -and very much put out. - -“Why don’t you keep your ugly beasts in order?” shouted Ray. - -“Grüss Gott!” said the small boy with a vacant grin, and with stones -and blows sent his flock jangling down into the lower woods. - -“That’s the most forcible argument I’ve ever come across against -promiscuous charity,” laughed Ray, as Lois shook herself clear of the -sense and smell of them and did up her hair. - -“The hideous beasts! Their stony eyes and stupid faces were awful,--a -perfect nightmare! I shall dream of them for ages.” - -They stopped that night at Chur, and Lois duly dreamed of a -never-ending struggle with multitudinous stony-eyed goats, and had a -fairly bad night of it. - -She seemed, indeed, so unrefreshed in the morning that Ray decided to -make an easy day’s work by taking train to Ilanz, and the diligence, if -it was still running, for such further distance as it would take them. - -And so it was half-past six in the evening when they reached Ruēras, -where the diligence stopped for the night and they perforce stopped -also. The accommodation was somewhat primitive, but the freedom of the -simple life condoned everything. They ate well and slept well, and -started off next morning in the best of spirits, with no cloud upon -their horizon but the nebulous possibilities of the unknown future; and -quite unconscious of the fact that, at eleven o’clock the night before, -the mightiest die in the world’s history had been cast. Great Britain -had declared war on Germany. - -They crossed a brook and a torrent, and in a deep ravine below the -fragment of a ruined castle, Ray pointed out to her the little stream -which he told her was the Baby Rhine in its cradle. - -“It’s always interesting to get back right to the beginning of a thing -which in the end becomes a very big thing. We know what the Rhine is at -its best and there’s where it begins.” - -“I shall never forget it,” said Lois, hanging on to his arm. - -“And if the old Colonel is right, away over yonder it will soon be -running red,” said Ray thoughtfully. - -“We’ll try and not think about it till we have to.... But whatever -comes, Ray, life has been very good to us.” - -“Yes, thank God! We have tasted the joy of it, whatever follows.” - -And away over yonder, the German hordes had, days ago, surged over the -Rhine, and now they had burst into Belgium and were hammering at Liége, -and the Meuse was running red and pouring its flood into the Rhine on -its way to the sea. - -They climbed steadily, with wonderful views over Rheintal and up into -Vorder Rheintal, crossed the summit of Pass da Tiarms, and came down -again to the old high-road at the eastern end of the gloomy little -Oberalp-See. - -“There lies the highway to happiness,” said Ray, pointing away in front -where, in the dim distance, a white thread of a road wound along a -lofty mountain-side. “That’s the Furka. Once we’re over that we’re in -the Rhone Valley and almost at Montreux,” and he pressed her arm tight -again as a reminder of all that Montreux would mean for them. - -They took the short cut down to Andermatt, got shaken almost to pieces -with its stony steepness, and went to the Bellevue to recuperate with -a well-earned lunch, and in hopes of getting some recent news from the -outside world. But the Berne papers had not yet arrived and the foreign -ones were many days old, and a chat with the manager furnished only -disquieting war-like rumours, gathered by him from the officers of the -big artillery-camp who sometimes came into the hotel for a meal or a -smoke. - -Ray was obviously restless under this lack of news, and Lois was quick -to perceive and understand it. - -“Let us get on,” she said. - -“Can you? Sure you’re not done up?” - -“Not a bit of it. It is delightful rambling along like this, but I’ve -always the feeling that dreadful things may be going on outside, and if -they are, the sooner we know the better.” - -“Yes. It’s the not knowing that’s so worrying. It’s like wandering -about in a fog with collisions and smashes going on all about one and -no chance of seeing what’s up. I’d sooner know the worst than nothing -at all. I wanted to stop at the jolly little Golden Lion at Hospenthal. -I stopped three days there once and I’ve always wanted to go back. But -if we can get as far as Realp it will shorten to-morrow’s walk over the -Furka. The hotels at Gletsch are only for millionaires, not for tramps -like us.” - -So they started off, determined to push along to Realp, or even to -Tiefenbach if they could manage it, but Fate had arranged for them to -stop at Hospenthal after all. - -While they sat at lunch the sky darkened. The rain began before -they had gone half a mile, and it came down in such sheets that Ray -considered the advisability of turning back. But Lois would not hear of -it, so with their Loden cloaks outside their rucksacs, they plodded on -up the stony road which very soon became a river, while the mountain -tops all round took on new white coats of snow. - -“We’ll have a rough time on the Furka to-morrow,” said Ray. “I know -what it’s like in snow.” - -“I think I’d sooner have snow than cataracts like this. Will these -cloaks keep the wet out?” - -“They will, my child. The wetter they get outside, the less gets -through.” - -“Then it’s all right. We’ll stop at your little hotel as soon as we -come to it and get dry stockings on.” - -“And a jolly big fire and a first-rate supper. We’ll be as cosy as -cats.” - -“Who are all these men in front?” - -“Weary ploughmen plodding their homeward way. But they look to me like -Italian navvies--about the unpleasantest class of person you can meet -in Switzerland. The rain’s too much for them, I suppose, so they’re -knocking off for the day.” - -“Here’s another lot coming the other way.” - -“Switzers these, by the look of them.” - -The two bands of about a score each passed one another some distance -ahead of them, just about where the road forked, and one part struck -up to the left towards the stony desolations and frowning peaks of the -Gothard. - -“Hello!” cried Ray. “What on earth are they up to?” - -For the dark clump of men now nearest them, the Switzers,--halted -suddenly, and turned, and then, as though moved by one spring, these -made a dash at the others and flung themselves on them with shouts and -blows till they broke and fled up the stony way. - -“Well, well!” said Ray, watching keenly. “That’s a little bit of racial -feeling right under our noses, unless I’m mistaken. Symptomatic of the -times. The Colonel said there was no love lost between them, and here’s -the proof of it. War’s in the air, my child.” - -The Switzers having chased their opponents well up the stony road came -swinging along now with cheerful faces and martial tread. - -“What was it?” asked Ray as they came up. - -“Just a swarm of Italian rats, Herr,” said one jovially, while the rest -gathered round grinning delightedly, and one or two wiped away smears -of blood from their faces. - -“They’re mobilising for the war, over there, you see, and we’re -mobilising for the war, over here; and one of them showed his teeth at -us as he passed, so we gave them a lesson in manners.” - -“But you will have no war here.” - -“Please God, no, Herr! But we’ve got to be ready, and if anyone sets -foot on Swiss soil so much the worse for him. Those rascals would like -to try it, we know, but if they do we’ll treat them as we did this -little lot and kick them back into their own country. We do not like -them,” and he spat disdainfully and all the others did the same. - -“You are not thinking of going up Gothard way, Herr?” asked another -meaningly. - -“No, we stop at Hospenthal for the night, since it’s raining so, and -cross the Furka to-morrow.” - -“I wouldn’t like to cross the Gothard within arm’s length of that lot -all by myself,” said a third. “They may be good men but they don’t look -it. Have you any news of the war, Herr? Is France in it?” - -“We’ve no news for days past. We’re hoping to get some over yonder. But -I’m afraid there’s little hope of France keeping out.” - -“It’ll be a big blaze,” said the leader. “What about you, Herr, in -England? Will you be in it too?” - -“I’m very much afraid so. We’re hurrying home as quick as we can.” - -“Well, for me, I hope Germany will get her head broken. Frenchmen I -like, and Englishmen and Americans still better. But Italians I do not -like, and Germans still less. They are too big for their clothes, and -they are pigs to have any dealings with,” and the others said “So!” and -“Jawohl!” - -“Well--grüss Gott, Herr and Frau! And may we all live to see better -times!” and with a rumble of “grüss Gotts!” they went on their way, -and Ray and Lois plodded on towards Hospenthal and a big fire and dry -stockings and such defiance of the rigours of the road and the weather -as a warm welcome could supply. - -It was with a sigh of relief that Lois hastily felt over her rucksac, -as the smiling maid drew off her dripping cloak, and found it sound and -dry; and in spite of her soddened feet and streaming face and draggled -hair the sight of a roaring fire in a room on the right induced a sense -of coming comfort. - -“You are wet, madame?--no?--not inside? That is goot. You will change -your feet, and then hot tea, and all will be well,”--she had the -cheerfullest face Lois had seen for months and she spoke English -charmingly. - -“That’s the ticket, Freda,” said Ray joyously. “The hottest tea you can -make and a dash of cognac in it, and poke up that fire still more if -you can do it without setting the place ablaze.” - -“Ach!”--and then, running at him with outstretched hands. “Why it is -the Herr who stopped with us two years ago, and I did not for the -moment know him. And this is madame? And you will stop the night? -Yes?--in such weather?” - -“Oh, we’ll stop the night all right. Wild horses could not drag us away -from that fire such a day as this.” - -“I will show you to your room and the tea will be ready by the time you -come down. This way, madame--iff you please!” - -“Steady on, Freda! Two rooms--iff you please.” - -“So?” in a tone of vast surprise, with a touch of disappointment in it. - -“Mademoiselle is to become my wife as soon as we reach Montreux. I have -been to deliver her from the hands of the Philistines--the Germans, I -mean. She was in Leipsic----” - -“Ach--those verdomte Germans! They are always making trouble. Then two -rooms. This way, mademoiselle, iff you please!” - -Hail and rain thrashed wildly on the window-panes as Lois refitted -herself, but a quarter of an hour later, when they came down the stair -together, and entered the cosy room whose dark wood panelling reflected -the dancing flames all round, there was their tea-table drawn up close -to the blazing hearth with two easy chairs alongside, and she felt a -sense of home-iness greater than she had enjoyed during the last two -years. - -At a table not far away a burly, broad-backed man was busily writing -letters with a big cigar in his mouth. - -At sight of them he jumped up in vast surprise and came at them. - -“Why--Ray Luard!--and Miss Lois?... Now what in the name of--what is -it?--Mrs Ghrundy--are you two wandering round here for?” - -“Hello? Why!--if it isn’t Dr Rhenius! How are you, sir? We’re as right -as trivets--whatever they are, though we _have_ walked from Ruēras -to-day.” - -“Ah--you come from Ruēras? And before that?” - -“Lois was in Leipsic, as you know. Mrs Dare sent me to fetch her home. -We couldn’t get direct so we came round. What news have you? We’ve -heard nothing but rumours for days. Let’s have tea, Lois. I’m sure -you’re only half warmed yet. Have a cup of tea, Doctor?” - -“I thank you, no. But I will smoke--if I may,” with an appealing look -at Lois. - -“Oh do, please! I like it.” - -“Well now--where are _you_ from, Doctor, and what’s the latest facts?” -asked Ray, as he laced his hot tea with cognac and insisted on doing -the same with Lois’s in spite of her protesting hand. “It’s good for -her under these circumstances. Now isn’t it, Doctor?” - -“I do not prescribe stimulants as a rule, as you know,” said Dr Rhenius -weightily. “But to anyone who has been out in that”--as the hail dashed -against the windows again--“a moderate dose is undoubtedly indicated.” - -“That’s better,” said Ray, passing up his cup again. “Now, sir,--where -are we?” - -“At war,” said the Doctor gravely. “Great Britain declared war against -Germany last night.” - -“That’s bad,” said Ray, and he and Lois both sat staring aghast at the -massive face lit up by the dancing flames. - -They had known Dr Rhenius for ten years or more. He was established -in Willstead before any of them came there. He had a good practice -and private means of his own, and was generally esteemed and trusted. -He was a bachelor, of five-and-forty or so, and in spite of his -German-sounding name claimed Polish descent. His father, Casimir -Rienkiwicz, had, he had told them, fled from Russian domination in -Warsaw to the freedom of London, where his son was born. The father had -adopted the less cumbrous name of Rhenius, and prospered in business. -The son studied medicine in Edinburgh, in London, in Munich and in -Paris, spoke German, French, and English with equal fluency, kept -in close touch with the most advanced medical thought of all three -countries, and employed their latest curative discoveries while his -English confrères were still sniffing suspiciously at their outer -wrappers. - -The one thing that ever disturbed his equanimity was to be referred -to as a German. At times the younger folk with humorous malice would -drop an innocent, “Of course, you Germans,” etc. etc., when the Doctor -would lose his placidity and repudiate the innuendo with scorn and -indignation. Victoria Luard was especially good at baiting him and -enjoyed his outbursts to the full. - -Such spare time as his patients allowed him he devoted to research into -the subject of mental diseases. Whereby he and Connal Dare had become -great friends. He had encouraged Con in the choice of his special -line, and had helped him freely out of his own well-filled stores -of knowledge and experience. When they met, which was rarely now, -they went at it hammer and tongs, and in the intervals corresponded -vigorously concerning any unusual cases Con came across, and the newest -methods of treating them, and the results. - -“Yes,” said Dr Rhenius soberly. “It looks like being a general flare -up, and that will mean--it will mean more than any of us can imagine.” - -“Where did you hear it?” asked Ray. “We have been aching for some -definite word of what was going on, but no one seemed to know anything -and no letters or papers were coming through.” - -“I was at Piora, near Airolo. The news came there this morning, and I -packed up and started at once for home. I came through the tunnel to -Göschenen, booked a seat in the diligence for to-morrow morning, and -walked on here, because I know this little place of old and always -enjoy it. It may be the last time some of us will enjoy it for a long -time to come.” - -“You think it will be a long business, Doctor?” asked Lois anxiously. - -He shook his big head discouragingly. “War is full of surprises, my -dear. It is the very last thing I would care to prophesy about.” - -“Italy will go in with Germany and Austria, of course,” said Ray. - -The Doctor’s big moustache crinkled up as he compressed his lips. -“Eventually, one would suppose so. But, truly, I could discover no -enthusiasm, or even inclination, for warlike adventure in the few with -whom I had the opportunity of conversing. They are still suffering from -Tripoli, down there, you see.... Where are you making for?” - -“Two big M’s, Doctor. Montreux and Marriage. We’re going to get married -as soon as we get there.” - -“So!” - -“You see it’s hardly right and proper--as you suggested just now--to be -gadding about in this fashion together. So we’re going to regularise -the situation at the first possible moment.” - -“I will chaperone you with pleasure.” - -“Thanks awfully! But we’d sooner get married. We wouldn’t like to be a -burden on anyone.” - -“And how do you go?” - -“We’ve walked mostly so far--all the way from Landeck, except one spell -from Chur to Ruēras. We like it.” - -“If you take my advice you will get them to telephone for seats in the -diligence and come along with me. It will not be walking weather for -some days now. And the Furka in snow is a tough job. We get to Brigue -to-morrow evening and to Montreux next day. They are mobilising here -but the trains are still running. I wired to ask.” - -“I think we will. Lois is a splendid walker, but if it’s going to be -like this the sooner we’re at Montreux the better,” and he went at once -and got Freda to telephone to Göschenen for seats in the diligence for -the following morning. - -She came in presently with the information that every seat was booked -both for the morning and afternoon service. - -“And for the following day?” he asked. - -“Two coupé-seats only are left, Herr.” - -“Book them for us at once, Freda, and we will either stop here or walk -on up the Furka and take our places when the diligence catches us up.” - -“Jawohl, Herr!” - -“I must get on,” said the Doctor, “or I would joyfully wait with you -here.” - -“Oh, we wouldn’t think of it. How about getting on from Montreux?” - -The Doctor nodded musingly. “There one will have to be guided by -circumstances. I shall go on to Geneva and endeavour to make my way -through France. But it may not be an easy matter. Everything will be -under military law and mere civilians will not be of much account just -now. You may have to wait there for a time till the first rush to the -frontiers is over.” - -“We expected that. That’s why we’re going to get married as soon as we -get there.” - -“I will tell them all about it at home, if I succeed in getting there. -They will be very suspicious of foreigners in France. They may lock me -up. You have no passports, I suppose.” - -“Not a scrap between us. I’ve never carried one in my life.” - -“This has taken us all unawares. But I always carry one. It is useful -at times, in procuring one’s registered letters and so on.... And -money?--you have plenty?” - -“Enough to go on with. If we don’t turn up you might ask Uncle Tony -to send us some more--to Poste Restante, Montreux,” and the Doctor -methodically made a note of it. - -They talked much of matters connected with the coming war, all through -supper and afterwards. They had the hotel to themselves. Freda told -them that up to three days ago they were full; then, at once, everyone -fled at news of the possibility of war. - -But, except as to the broad facts of the case, the Doctor was very -non-committal, and thinking over all their discursive talk afterwards, -Ray found himself very little the wiser for it all. His own opinions -he could remember expressing very fully and freely. But, though the -Doctor had discoursed weightily at times on various points, Ray could -not recall anything of any great importance that he had said or any new -light that he had cast upon the complex situation. The matter visibly -weighed upon him and even cast its shadow on him. - -They saw him for a few minutes next morning, and then the diligence -rolled up and he was gone. - -It was a bleak day, cold slush under foot and a wind that held in it -the chill of the snow-peaks. They delighted Freda by deciding to wait -there for the diligence next morning, and enjoyed the warmth within the -more for the cold without. - - - - -IX - - -At home, meanwhile, they were living in a whirl of conflicting rumours, -fears, hopes, which changed their faces with every edition of the -papers, but possessed one lowest common denominator in an intense and -ever-increasing anxiety. - -Mr Dare wore a very grave face in these days; and as his wife -understood--to some extent at all events--the difficulties he had to -wrestle with in consequence of the total cessation of business with the -Continent, she found it no easy matter to keep as cheerful a heart as -she would have wished, but bravely did her best that way. - -One quick glance at her husband’s face, when he came in of a night, -told her more than all the papers, and the news was never encouraging. - -Every evening, the Colonel, possessed of a firm belief in the efficacy -of the commercial barometer as an index of the political outlook, came -in to gather John Dare’s latest observations of it. And he too could -tell with one glance at John Dare’s face how things were going. - -When Mr Dare was late, as often happened, he generally found the -Colonel sitting there waiting for him and doing his best meanwhile to -cheer Mrs Dare. But, try as they all might, their cheerfulness was of a -gray autumnal character which foresaw wintry weather before any hope of -Spring. - -From the mere business point of view the fact of Great Britain being -dragged into the mêlée could not make matters very much worse for Mr -Dare than they were. But that dreadful possibility entailed others of -so intimate a character that it was impossible to close one’s eyes to -them. - -“I wish those two were safely home,” said Mrs Dare, busy with her -sewing one evening, as the Colonel, in Mr Dare’s easy chair, sat -waiting with her for its proper occupant’s arrival. - -“I’m sure you needn’t worry about them, dear Mrs Dare,” said the -Colonel emphatically. “Ray knows his way about and they’ll be perfectly -all right. We may get a wire from them at any moment saying they’ll be -here in an hour.” - -“I’m surprised we’ve had no word of any kind since Ray left.” - -“I expect things are all upside down all over the Continent. We’ll hear -from them all right in time.” - -Then Mr Dare came in and they saw by his face that the City barometer -was still at stormy. - -“Rumours galore,” was his report, “and mostly disturbing. Sir Edward -Grey is doing everything in his power for peace, but the general -feeling is that the Kaiser means war, and the City is preparing for -it. Bank-rate is up to 4. It may be 8 to-morrow. Consols down to 70. -Everything is in suspense. No business doing.” - -“And what do they say as to our being dragged in?” asked the Colonel -anxiously. - -“General idea is that only a miracle can keep us out, and that miracles -aren’t common.” - -“Any talk of mobilising?--fleet and army?” - -“No orders yet, as far as one can learn, but there is little doubt word -has been sent round to be ready. I saw Guards marching through this -morning. In fact there is an undoubted sense of war in the air.” - -“And how do they feel as to our preparedness, if it comes to that?” - -At which Mr Dare shook his head. “Not a doubt as to our readiness at -sea. But on land----” he shrugged discomfortingly, “Well, the general -feeling is that what we have is good, but so small as to be of very -little account among the huge masses that may be engaged over there. -They say there may be ten million men fighting----” - -“How awful!” said Mrs Dare. “Ten millions! And all with relatives of -one kind or another! Just think of the aftermath--the suffering and -misery! I am not a violent person, but, truly, there is no ill I could -not wish for the men who bring such a horror about.” - -“They’ll suffer!” said the Colonel. - -“We too,” said Mr Dare soberly. “And here is how it comes home to us. -If we’re drawn in there will be an urgent call for more men----” - -“Quite right!” said the Colonel. “If you’d listened to advice we’d have -had ’em ready. Now we shall have to do the best we can with what we can -get.” - -“The Territorials will be mobilised----” - -“But they are surely for home defence,” said Mrs Dare. - -“They will be needed at the front. Presumably the choice will be given -them.” - -“And they’ll go,” said the Colonel. “They’re not half as bad as some -folks have been trying to make out, and this will buck them up to top -notch.” - -“That means your Ray will be in it.” - -“He wouldn’t be my Ray unless he was, sir.” - -“And our Noel. He’s been at us for days past for permission to join,” -said Mrs Dare without enthusiasm. - -“He’ll go London Scottish with Ray of course. Good lad!” - -“He was up seeing about it to-day,” said Mr Dare. “And he’s hoping he -can get into the Second Battalion if they form one. He’s put down his -name for it anyway and I suppose he’ll have to go. I never knew him so -keen on anything in his life before.” - -“Good lad!--The right sort! Does honour to his parents.” - -“And Con is expecting to be called up,” said Mrs Dare. - -“And I bet you Alma will want to be in it. Our two families are doing -their duty. Da-ash it! If all the others would come up to the scratch -as well there’d be no lack of fighting-men.” - -“And suppose they none of them come back,” said Mrs Dare forebodingly. - -“One never supposes such things, ma’am. If they go, they go to the duty -God has called them to. And if they never come back they’ll have done -their best for their King and their country, and that is the noblest -thing any man or woman can do.” - -“I know, Colonel, but ... all the same, it would be very sore to lose -them.” - -“It would be sorer still for Germany to ride rough-shod over England. -They’re great fighters, and if it comes it’ll be hot work. Thank God, -they’re not barbarians, however, and they’ll fight decently and respect -the rules of the game.” - -But even in that thought Mrs Dare found but little comfort, and try as -she might she could not attain to the Colonel’s altruistic heights of -patriotism. - -“It is different,” she said to herself. “After all, his two are not -bone of his bone and flesh of his flesh, and that makes all the -difference in the world.” - -“Where are they all to-night?” asked Mr Dare. For the thought that -before very long partings might come unconsciously distilled within him -a curious little desire to know they were still within reach. “Noel -came up to have lunch with me and to tell me about the London Scottish. -I understood he was coming straight home.” - -“He came and told me about it,” said Mrs Dare. “It has given him a new -zest in life. He was on the links all afternoon, and then he insisted -on taking the girls into town to ‘When Knights were Bold.’” - -“H’m!” said Mr Dare. “I must be out of touch with eighteen and a half. -I can’t say I feel like the theatre myself.” - -“Young blood runs red,” said the Colonel. “The jump in it that makes -him want to go to the theatre will help him through tight places later -on.” - -“Do you think it will be a long business, Colonel?” asked Mrs Dare, in -pursuance of her own thoughts. - -“Hard to say, ma’am. Personally I should be inclined to say not. The -expense of all those men in the field will be so enormous,--to say -nothing of the upsetting of business and life generally. One or two -tremendous battles and it may be over. War is full of surprises. One -side or the other may crumple up unexpectedly and cry ‘enough.’ On the -other hand it is not easy to think of Germany doing that, after all her -bumptiousness. And I’d hate to think of France and Russia giving in. -Auntie Mitt is hard at work knitting winter socks and comforters, and -Balaclava helmets.” - -“Goodness me! Does she think it will last as long as that?” - -“She says she remembers hearing they were badly wanted in the -Crimea,--which was a fact. I’ve been hinting to her that she probably -remembers making them at that time, and, being a good Conservative, -instinct impels her to do as she did then.” - -“Too bad!” smiled Mrs Dare. “She could hardly have knitted for the -Crimea.” - -“I’m not so sure of that. She’s frightfully close and touchy about -her age. She’s wonderfully well-preserved, and she’s a good little -soul, but I do enjoy chaffing her. It’s a pleasure to see the prim and -extremely lady-like way in which she takes it. She always makes me feel -like a little boy at school again. You’ve no definite word from Con -yet?” - -“He’s all ready packed to start at a moment’s notice, and is quite sure -he will have to go. Nothing more than that. It’s all very disturbing to -one’s peace of mind.” - -“Not half as disturbing, ma’am, as if the Germans got across here. Let -us be thankful that if there is to be fighting it’ll be on the other -side of the water. Business is quite at a standstill, I suppose, Dare?” - -“Mine is, and most other people’s. If the mere threat of war curdles -things up like this it’s hard to imagine what they’ll be like if it -actually comes.” - -“It’ll be a case of everybody helping everybody else,” said the -Colonel, gallantly and meaningly, and on that note jumped up to go. -“I must run along and see how Auntie Mitt’s getting on with those -Balaclava helmets!” he said, and shook hands with them warmly, and -went. - - - - -X - - -The unsettled state of international politics affected the younger folk -much as it did their elders, only in a different way and to a less -extent. - -It produced in them an excitement and effervescence of spirits which -left no room for broodings or forebodings. They closed their eyes to -the grimmer possibilities and saw only the picturesque and dramatic and -thrilling. - -They were all most keenly interested in every move in the mighty -game, and somewhat impatient of the slow development of the intricate -situation. The number of evening papers that found their way into both -houses was astonishing, and extremely wasteful. - -Their local weekly paper arranged for a telephonic news-service with a -London paper, and posted in its windows irregular bulletins, the more -startling the better. Whoever went into the village was expected to -bring back the latest rumours. Mrs Dare, when she went, was content to -carry the items of any importance in her mind. The Colonel, and Noel, -and Honor, and Victoria Luard invariably bought latest editions as -well, sometimes of half-a-dozen different papers, in the hope that one -or other would contain something illuminating which had escaped the -rest. And in the anxious search for that illuminating item they read -the same news over and over again in all the papers, till, as Noel -said, they “got fairly fed up with chewing the same bit till there -was no taste in it.” Yet the exercise seemed only to leave them the -hungrier for more startling later editions. They all, in fact, had a -pretty severe attack of news-fever, and it grew worse with every day -that passed and with all the thin and unsatisfying pabulum it fed upon. - -Noel and the girls and young Gregor MacLean spent much time on the -links. There was no talk of going away for holidays this year, not at -all events while things were in their present unsettled condition. - -The Luards had planned to spend September in Switzerland, at Saas-Fée -and Zermatt. Noel and Honor were to have gone with them, and Mr and Mrs -Dare had intended making a round of visits in Scotland. - -Connal Dare and Alma Luard, if they could get off at the same time, had -been going to friends on Dartmoor not far from Postbridge. As for Miss -Mitten, she never would hear a word about going away. No place was as -comfortable as home, she averred,--she had everything there that she -wanted, so why should she make a change which could only be for the -worse? - -But all plans had had to be given up, and the younger folk consoled -themselves with much golf and tennis, and flung themselves into these -things with the gusto of players whose time might be short. - -But, among them all, bad as things looked, there was still--except -in the mind of the Colonel, and perhaps also of Mr Dare,--a strong -undercurrent of feeling that so incredible a catastrophe as a general -European war, in this year of grace 1914, was impossible. Things had -looked threatening before, time and again, and the clouds had rolled by -without breaking. The men at the head of affairs, Mr Asquith and Sir -Edward Grey, were eminently safe and experienced, and pre-eminently set -on peace. It was all mighty interesting, thrilling indeed at times, -though the thrills of the evening were not seldom found to have been -wasted when they eagerly scanned the more sedate morning papers. But it -would--they could not but believe--all end in smoke, as it had so often -done before. - -And so the younger folk got all the thrills the papers could afford -them, and all the enjoyment out of life that was to be had under the -circumstances; and no one, from their merry talk and laughter, would -have imagined that just across the water issues so tremendous for the -future of the world were surely and quickly coming to grips. - -Gregor MacLean lived with his widowed mother at White Lodge, on the -other side of Willstead Common. He was an only son, but, through the -good Scotch common-sense of his parents, had escaped the usual penalty -of only sons. He was in fact a genuinely good fellow, somewhat reserved -and unexpressive of his feelings, and in no way spoiled either by his -mother’s delight in him or the good-sized shoes he had stepped into at -his father’s death. - -He was on the Stock Exchange, in his late father’s firm, Dymoke and -MacLean, of Draper’s Gardens. But the Stock Exchange was for the time -being dead, and as Gregor said he saved in every way,--money, gray -matter, and nervous energy--by stopping at home, he stopped at home and -enjoyed himself,--gauging the pulse of affairs by the price of Consols -and the Bank-rate in the evening and morning papers, and laying in -stores of health on the links, while yet there was time, against the -demands the future might make upon him. - -The firm of Dymoke and MacLean was of long-standing and high repute. -It had a solid old connection which at the best of times did little -in the way of speculation, and never dreamed of realising when things -were at their worst. It did, occasionally, when the bottom had fallen -out of things generally, confer ponderously with the heads of the firm -and empower them to buy for it good old reliable stock which the less -fortunate had had to jettison, and sometimes it invested on a large -scale, as provision for younger sons and unmarried daughters. And so -the business was an eminently safe one and satisfactorily profitable, -and old John Dymoke could sit comfortably in his big swing-chair in -his office in Draper’s Gardens, no matter what wild storms swept the -Street outside, and young Gregor could spend his days on the links with -perfect equanimity, though the virus of possible war had thrown the -Exchanges of the world into convulsions such as they had not known for -generations. - -Mr Dymoke played neither golf nor tennis. He loved Draper’s Gardens and -the society of his old cronies of the Exchange. Gregor MacLean took -great interest both in golf and tennis and in the play of Miss Honor -Dare, and looked upon Draper’s Gardens as one of the necessities of a -comfortable existence but not as a place to spend more time in than was -absolutely imperative. - -And that is how he came to be spending profitable days on the links -while his less-pleasantly-situated fellows were worrying themselves -gray over the slowly unfolding developments of international politics. - -Between him and Honor there existed an entente cordiale which Gregor -hoped in time to consolidate into a more comprehensive alliance. Honor -understood him very well,--far better than he understood her, and she -was not averse to an eventual acquiescence with his hopes and views -as to her future. But in the meantime--partly no doubt as the result -of her close intimacy with Victoria Luard--she was in no hurry to -surrender her entire freedom of action even for what most girls would -have considered the higher estate of an affiance with Gregor MacLean. - -She liked him better than any of the other young men to whom her pretty -face and comradely ways proved so great an attraction. He was, as she -not infrequently told him, if anything too well endowed with this -world’s goods. So well that no incentive to arduous work was left him. - -To which he would reply that you couldn’t judge of a fellow entirely by -his form at tennis or his handicap on the links. She should see him on -’Change, wrestling with beasts at Ephesus, and carrying fortunes on his -bare head. - -At which Honor’s merry laugh would ring out and set him to -soul-searching for means of approving himself to her in larger and -loftier ways. - -Between Noel Dare and Vic also there existed a distinct feeling of -something more than friendliness, which was not without its humorous -aspects both to themselves and their families. - -They had known one another intimately for ten years. At the beginning, -when they were both about of an age--between eight and nine--Noel had -genially bullied her and Honor to his heart’s content, ordered them -about, pulled their pig-tails when he pleased, and called them kids, -and they had accepted his masterfulness as quite in the natural order -of things. - -By the time they reached fourteen they were on a level, and Noel found -his powers of command over them gone. He might order, but they only -laughed and went their own way. - -And now, at nineteen, their positions were reversed. Victoria had -developed into a young woman of advanced and very decided views, with -aims in life and immense energy in carrying them out. And Noel felt -himself little more than a schoolboy in her presence. - -As to touching her hair!--it would have been a desecration! He never -dreamed of it,--not of actually doing it anyway. It was something even -to touch her hand. And he sombrely said to himself at times that she -was getting beyond him. And he doubted within himself, whether even -the most assiduous devotion to St Mary Axe could ever place him in the -position he aspired to regarding her. - -They all four came clattering into the hall at Oakdene one afternoon, -after a splodgy round of the links, damp and bedraggled and thirsting -for tea. Auntie Mitt had it served in next to no time, and between -little sips at her own cup sat busily knitting and listening to their -wonderful flow of spirits, which found vent in a jargon that was still -utterly unintelligible to her, in spite of the amount of it to which in -her time she had listened. - -But by the time they had finished their third cups they had fought the -battle all through again, had explained away all their failures to the -entire satisfaction of those chiefly concerned, had replumed themselves -on their more outstanding successes, and then, as the boys lit their -cigarettes with sighs of satisfaction, their minds came down again to -mundane affairs. - -“Where’s Uncle Tony, Auntie Mitt?” asked Victoria. - -“Sir Anthony is just coming up the drive, my dear,” said Auntie Mitt, -with a glance out of the window. “He went down to the village to see if -there was any news,” and Uncle Tony came in, paper in hand. - -“Ah-ha!” said he, “Mudlarks!...” - -“And as merry, sir,” said Gregor. “Damp but undaunted”.... - -“Dirty but not dispirited,” said Honor briskly. - -“Defeated but defiant,” said Vic. “Your turn, No.” - -“Oh, dash!” said Noel, who was not over-good at that kind of mental -gymnastics. - -“My copyright!--since Victoria-who-should-by-rights-have-been-Balaclava -won’t allow me to say damn,” said the Colonel. - -“Of course I won’t,--with Auntie Mitt, sitting there listening with all -her ears----” - -“I heard it not infrequently before you were thought of, my dear,” said -Auntie Mitt, with her little bird-like uplook and smile. “It was, I -think, much more commonly used even in the best society than it is now. -I believe even the Duke himself”.... - -“Ah--he needed me to keep him in order. I wonder you didn’t do it -yourself, Auntie Mitt.” - -“Oh,--my dear!” - -“Any news, sir?” asked Gregor. - -“Bank-rate 8 per cent----” - -“Deuter-on-omy!” - -“And the Stock Exchange closed till further notice.” - -“Gee-willikins! Things are shaping badly then, sir!” - -“Very badly, I fear. Russia and Germany are practically at war, though -no formal declaration has yet been made, I believe.” - -“And how do we stand now, sir?” asked Noel eagerly. - -“On the brink, my boy. Sir Edward Grey is still working his hardest for -peace. But, personally, I should say the chances are of the smallest.” - -“I wonder where Lois and Ray have managed to get to,” said Honor -anxiously. - -“You trust Ray, my dear. They’ll be all right. I just called in to -reassure your mother. I knew her first thought would be for them when -she heard the news.” - -“But surely we ought to have heard from them before this----” - -“Not under the circumstances. Nothing would pass into or out of Germany -the moment they began to mobilise,--no letters, no telegrams, certainly -no foreigners. But they would start at the latest on Monday. This is -Friday. They ought certainly to be well on their way by this time. But, -you see, they may have had to take some roundabout route,--perhaps off -the beaten track. We shall hear from them all right in time. They don’t -cause me the slightest anxiety.” - -“Think of closing the Exchange! ... and eight per cent! That shows what -the big pots think of things anyway,” said Gregor, beating a soft -tattoo on the floor with his heels in his amazement. “Shows I was right -in stopping away too! Sight better here than mouching about down there! -I wonder when they’ll open shop again.” - -“If we’re right into it--as we shall be,” said the Colonel, with -conviction, “it’s impossible to say how things will go on. We’ve never -had such a crisis before, you see, and I don’t suppose any living man -can foresee just how things will work out. Money will be very tight, -I expect. Provisions may go up beyond anything we’ve ever known. That -will depend on the fleet. If we can hold the seas----” - -“Why, of course we can, sir. What’s our fleet for?” said Gregor. - -“They have some ships too, I believe.” - -“They have, and we’ll give them beans if they’ll give us half a -chance,” said Noel. - -“It might be wise to lay in a stock of provisions,” suggested Miss -Mitten. “I remember during the--I mean, hearing--that food went to -extraordinary prices during the Crimean War.” - -“Go it, Auntie Mitt! We’ll go up to the Army and Navy to-morrow and -clear them out,” laughed Vic. “This really sounds like war times.” - -“You’d better load us up too, while you’re at it, Vic,” said Honor, “or -maybe we’ll be sitting by the roadside crying for a crust.” - -“Wait a moment, you giddy young people,” said Uncle Tony, nodding his -gray head sagely at them. “Let us look at this matter for a moment. -Suppose everybody acts on that idea. What is going to be the result?” - -“The bulls will clear the market and outsiders will go short,” said -Gregor. - -“Exactly! And the outsiders would be in the proportion of a -hundred--perhaps a thousand--to one. I’ve no doubt some--perhaps even -many--will do as Auntie Mitt proposes. It will naturally suggest itself -to the provident housekeeper,”--with a conciliatory little bow to the -already conscience-stricken little lady,--“but the effect will be bad -all round. It will drive up prices unnecessarily. It will deplete -stocks. It will emphasise the gap between the rich and the poor. -Carried to extremes it might well lead to riot and revolution, for -starving men stick at nothing.”--Miss Mitten clasped her thin little -black-mittened hands as though she saw them coming and begged for -mercy, and her face was woe-begone. “Indeed, in such a case, I would -hold a man justified in storming any house which had provisioned itself -in such a way----” - -Miss Mitten unclasped her hands and waved them at him in gentle -deprecation, saying almost with a sob, “I am sorry, Sir Anthony. I -stand rebuked. The matter had not presented itself to me in that light. -But I assure you I was thinking of you all rather than of myself, or -indeed of anybody else. I was in the wrong. I see it.” - -“You never thought of yourself before anybody else in all your life, -my dear,” said the Colonel gallantly. “We know you were thinking only -of us. But all the same, as you see, it would be an unpatriotic thing -to do and we will set our faces against it. If prices go up--as they -will--we’ll pay ’em. If supplies run short we’ll do the best we can. We -can always fall back on porridge,”--which was Miss Mitten’s particular -detestation. - -“It is said to be very sustaining,” she said meekly, at which he choked -violently through politely endeavouring to swallow a chuckle. - -“How’ll we be off for men, sir?” asked Noel. - -“Short as the dev--the deuce, my boy. Have you heard from your London -Scottish yet?” - -“Not yet, sir. There’s hopes of a Second Battalion, but it’s not -decided yet. I shall go up again to-morrow----” - -“I’ll go with you,” said Gregor, with sudden decision. - -“And we’ll sit on their door-step till they make up their minds and -take us on. Golf and tennis are off, my children,”--with a nod at the -girls. “It’s pipes and sporrans and skean-dhus now, and ‘Up with the -Bonnets of Bonnie Dundee!’” - -“Good lads! When the need is known they’ll all come flocking up. The -trouble is that you can’t make even volunteers into fighting-men -without training. We ought to have had you all at it years ago. Then -we’d be ready now.” - -“We’ll do our best, and pick it all up as fast as we can. It’ll be -better business than footling about the links anyway,” said Noel. - -“Rather!” said Gregor. - -And the girls took no umbrage at that, but they seemed a trifle quieter -than usual. - - - - -XI - - -Dr Connal Dare was striding along the passage leading to the general -room when he met old Jackson. - -He and old Jackson met in that passage every morning, and always the -same thing occurred. - -Old Jackson, with the fatigues of another night of hideous dreams -still heavy upon him, awaited Con’s coming with anxious face. As soon -as he saw him in the distance his dull face lightened with a look of -expectancy. And at sight of him Con’s face began to crinkle up amusedly -at the corners of the eyes. - -“Doctor! Won’t you smile for me?” the old man asked, as they drew near -one another, and Con set his broad shoulders to the wall and laughed -out in spite of himself and the regularity of the proceeding. - -The weary old eyes gazed up at him intently, and the woe-begone old -face lost some of its over-carefulness. A twisted grin flickered over -it, as if in spite of itself, and then he said, “Thank you, Doctor! -Sight o’ you does me a sight o’ good,” and shambled off re-inspirited, -while Con, with the crinkles still in the corners of his eyes, -continued his rounds. - -But, though he had laughed as usual for old Jackson’s benefit, and -though the remains of the laugh lingered in the corners of his eyes, -he was feeling graver than he ever remembered feeling in his life -before. For he had just been reading, over his breakfast, the momentous -news that Great Britain, having received no reply to her ultimatum -respecting the neutrality of Belgium, had declared war on Germany. And -that was enough to make any man grave indeed. - -He was on his way back from the women’s hospital wards, where he had -two or three cases which were causing him some anxiety, when one of the -attendants caught sight of him and came hurrying up. - -“I’ve just taken a letter to your room, sir. Special, I think. I didn’t -know where you were.” - -“Thank you, Barton! I’ll go along and get it,” and he knew what that -letter was likely to be. - -And it was. A long official envelope with O.H.M.S. in peremptorily -solid black letters above the address ‘Dr Connal Dare, R.A.M.C.’ - -He ripped it open and found himself no more Dr Dare of Birch Grove -Asylum but Dr and Lieutenant Dare of the Royal Army Medical Corps, -under orders to report himself within twenty-four hours at Medical -Head-Quarters in London. - -He read the orders quietly, and stood for a moment considering them and -himself, and the whole matter aloofly. His eyes wandered thoughtfully -round the room--over his books, his few pictures and photographs of the -home-folks. It was quite within the possibilities that he might never -see any of these things again. War was full of mischances, even in the -non-combatant arm. - -He was all ready, kit packed, notes of his cases carefully written out. -He added a word or two to these and swung away to see the Chief, his -mind hard at work on another matter. - -Two hours later, all very spick and span in his uniform, he had -deposited his baggage in the Luggage-Office at London Bridge, had -invaded St. Barnabas’s and interviewed the Matron, and had masterfully -talked her into breaking the rules, or at all events straining them to -such a point that the desire of his heart could creep through. - -He had been one of her favoured boys when he was there and they were -on very friendly terms, and, as he explained to her with extreme -earnestness, it was, after all, only a technical breach and--it was -war-time. He tried to prove that they were all under martial law but -she only smiled at him. He might be. She was not. - -Still, she was willing to admit that circumstances--such as a general -European War--altered cases. She had been young herself and she -understood fully how he felt. As a matter of duty she put it to him to -consider whether it was the best thing to do, and he proved to her, -with his most irresistible smile, that it was. And finally she sent an -attendant to find Nurse Luard. - -Alma came in in a few minutes and became a radiant illumination at -sight of Con in his uniform--a radiance of sparkling eyes and tell-tale -cheeks. - -“I was expecting you,” she said happily. - -“You are to arrange your work on somebody else’s shoulders and come -out with me for the afternoon, Alma. Matron is not quite sure if it is -wisdom or foolishness----” - -“We will prove it to be wisdom. I’ll be ready in ten minutes. Will you -wait?”--as she sailed away. - -“I’ll wait ten minutes,” grinned Con. - -“When do you expect to go?” asked the Matron. - -“As soon as the men go. And the sooner they get across the better. We -ought to be in Belgium now. The Germans are hammering away at Liége, -and I doubt if the Belgians singlehanded can do much. They never struck -one as particularly martial.” - -“Well, I hope you’ll come through it safely. It would be a terrible -thing for you both if ...” and she nodded gravely. - -“No good forecasting troubles. The worst ones don’t come as a rule, and -it’s no good thinking about them. We’re under the Red Cross, and they -fight straight and respect it.” - -“Shells and bullets are no respecters of persons, and in war one never -knows what may happen.” - -“Anyway it will be a mighty satisfaction to know that we belong to one -another.” - -“We must hope you are doing the right thing. It’s a very natural thing, -I acknowledge.” - -“And the natural thing is the right thing as a rule, now isn’t it?” - -“Sometimes,”--and Alma came in, her dark eyes dancing and her face -still flushed with the thought of the great adventure on which they -were bound. - -The Matron shook hands with them both very warmly, and wished them -‘God-speed!’ very heartily, and then they were gliding away in a taxi -to Doctors’ Commons, and from there to the nearest Registrar’s Office, -and they came out of it a few minutes later man and wife. - -“We’ll have a little wedding-feast at the Savoy under the guise of -lunch,” said Con gaily. “I had breakfast at eight. And then we’ll taxi -all the way home. I can’t possibly permit you to mingle with ordinary -people in ordinary trains yet. Besides, I want to kiss you all the way -down, and there’s nothing like a closed taxi----” - -“Dear, dear! What experience you seem to have had!” - -“Not a quarter enough, as you’ll see, Mrs Dare. Here we are! Now we’ll -get a table in the balcony and watch old Father Thames rolling down to -the sea.” - -“The tide is coming in,” said Alma, as she drew off her gloves. - -“Good omen! The rising tide!--and here’s the sun to add his -blessing,”--as the watery gray clouds up above parted and let a gleam -of sunshine through. - -They had the most memorable little lunch of their lives there,--with -the turgid yellow-gray flood brimming below them, dotted here and -there with a great creeping water-beetle of a black barge;--and the -gray and black spans of the bridges, up-stream and down, looming in -and out of the picture in the wavering sunlight;--and the yellow trams -spinning to and fro like shuttles through the gray web of life;--and -the tall chimneys and the shot tower on the opposite bank, with the -ragged wharves at their feet;--and the Embankment gardens and trees and -sauntering mid-day crowds, all just as usual and manifesting no undue -concern about anything. - -“And we’re actually at war with Germany at last,” said Con, as they sat -looking down on it all. - -“I’m glad we’re taking it so quietly,” said Alma. “We mean business.” - -Their very polite waiter attended punctiliously to all their wants, -acknowledging all orders with a grave inclination of the head and -never once opening his mouth. He might have been dumb for any evidence -they had to the contrary. Between courses he hovered about watchfully, -seemed interested in Con’s uniform, and distinctly appreciative of -Alma’s nurse’s costume and general appearance. Even Con’s very generous -tip he only acknowledged with a final silent bow. - -When Alma commented on such refinement of taciturnity, Con suggested -that he was possibly a German looking forward without enjoyment to a -change of occupation which would be less to his taste. - -They had a delightful run out to Willstead, and Con made best use of -his opportunities, having taken care to seat his wife directly behind -the driver. - -All too quickly they were there, taking Mrs Dare Senior’s breath away -by the magnitude of their announcement. - -“Mother--my wife!” was Con’s little way of breaking the news. “I have -to leave to-morrow morning so we decided to get married to-day.” - -“Well!” gasped his mother, and then took Alma to her heart and kissed -her warmly. - -“He never could have made a better choice, dear,” she said. “But it is -very sudden.... I hope it is wisely done.” - -“We think it is, mother,” said Alma joyously. “Whatever happens we have -this, and it has made us very happy.” - -“Have you seen the Colonel?” - -“Not yet,” said Con. “Mothers come before Uncles. We’ll go along -presently and make him jump. Auntie Mitt will probably have a fit.” - -“Have you had any lunch,--or did this great business make you forget -it?” - -“We had our wedding breakfast at one o’clock in the balcony of the -Savoy,” said Alma. “It was delightful.” - -“Then you’re ready for a cup of tea,” and she rang the bell and ordered -it in as quickly as it could be got ready. - -“But won’t this mean your giving up your post, Alma?” asked Mrs Dare -thoughtfully, as soon as she had time to look at the matter all round. - -“Not at present. Matron had to be told of course. But Con is one of her -old favourites, and she is to say nothing about it for a time. You see, -if the war amounts to anything and goes on long, they are sure to be -called on for nurses to go to the front and they’ll be short-handed----” - -“And they couldn’t afford to dispense with the best nurse they’ve -got, on a mere technicality,” said Con. “And as soon as it’s all -over I’m to join old Jamieson in Harley Street, and we’ll set up -housekeeping--probably with him. He’s got room enough for four families -in that big house of his.” - -“Well, well!” said Mrs Dare, and said no more, but her mother’s heart -prayed fervently that no whiff of the war-cloud might dim the bright -and hopeful outlook of these eager young lives. - -They chatted quietly over their tea, of Lois and Ray, and of Noel and -young MacLean and their war-like cravings, and of Vic and Honor, and -all the other little family matters in which they were all interested. - -“I’d love to see those boys in kilts,” said Alma. - -“They don’t know yet if there will be a Second Battalion,” said Mrs -Dare. “But if they don’t get into the London Scottish they’ll join -something else. They are quite set on going.” - -“It’s only natural,” said Con. - -“All the same I can’t help hoping they may not have to go to the front.” - -At which Con shook his head. “I’m afraid you must not count on that, -mother dear. One never knows what may happen in war, of course. But -everyone who knows says the Germans are mighty fighters, and they’ve -been preparing for this for many years. In fact some folks seem to -think their big war-machine may even be too perfect,--so very perfect -that if anything goes wrong with any part of it it will all tumble to -pieces.” - -“I wish it would and smother that wretched Kaiser in the ruins,” said -Alma heartily. - -“I don’t think it likely. They are very wonderful folks. In -organization, and scientific attainment generally, they have made us -all sit up and they beat us still. There is just one thing in this -matter in which we have the advantage over them.” - -“Ships? Guns?” queried Alma. - -“No,--greater than either,--the simple fact that we’re in the right and -they are utterly in the wrong. And that, you’ll find, will tell in the -long run. They are forcing on this war to serve their own selfish ends; -and we, thank God, have no axe of our own to grind in the matter. We’re -out to make an end of wars, if that is possible.” - -“That is worth fighting for,” said his mother heartily. - -“Ay! Worth dying for if necessary.... It will be very hot work, I -expect.... But we’ve got to win,--or go under. And that is unthinkable. -But the cost may be heavy.” - -“Our thoughts ... and our prayers will be with you all the time, -my boy.... May God grant us all a safe deliverance!” said Mrs Dare -fervently. - -“And that will help to buck us all up,” said Con cheerfully. “But we -mustn’t get morbid. Suppose we go over and break the good news to the -Colonel and Auntie Mitt, Mrs Connal Dare!” - -“I’m ready. Do it gently, Con. Remember they are older than we are.” - -“Good news never hurts. Come on!” - -Noel and Gregor MacLean, while anxiously awaiting news from -Headquarters as to the possible formation of a Reserve Battalion, -were preparing themselves for the chance by developing their skill in -musketry at the private shooting-school on the heath not far away. -They went up every day and spent many pounds at the targets and then -at clay pigeons, and in addition set themselves rigorous route-marches -of ten and fifteen miles to get themselves and their feet into good -condition. And each night they came home thick with mud and hungry as -hunters, and well-satisfied that they were doing everything in their -power to fit themselves for the real thing when the hoped-for call -should come. - -So Vic and Honor were thrown more than ever upon their own congenial -companionship. - -They were inseparable, and the days not being long enough for adequate -expression of their feelings, they generally spent the nights together -also. And Mrs Dare and Auntie Mitt were growing accustomed to the -sudden announcements,--“Vic’s sleeping with me to-night, Mother,” -and,--“Auntie Mitt, Honor’s going to sleep here to-night,”--and -the older folk made no objection, since it pleased the girls and -alternately brightened each house in turn. The times were somewhat out -of joint and anything that tended towards mitigation of circumstances -was to be made the most of. - -And so, when Con and Alma walked into Oakdene, they found the family -party still lingering over their tea-cups in the hall;--Miss Mitten’s -knitting-needles going like clock-work, the Colonel expatiating on the -monstrous perfidy of Germany in attacking Belgium, the girls nibbling -their final cakes and listening somewhat abstractedly, wondering no -doubt what those boys were doing to-day, and feeling that life--and -certainly golf--without them was distinctly thin and flavourless. - -“Ah--ha!” said Con magniloquently, “Here are the tribes assembled -together. Colonel!”--with a punctilious military salute,--“Auntie -Mitt!--and you two little girls!--we have come to gather your views on -the subject of marriage. A worthy subject! Don’t all speak at once.” - -“It is usually accounted an honourable estate,” said the Colonel, -beaming on them, while Miss Mitten peered up, bird-like, but knitted on -for dear life, and the girls looked anticipative. - -“We thank you!” said Con with a comprehensive bow. “Then you will -permit me to introduce to you--Mrs Connal Dare,”--at which, as he swung -Alma gracefully forward by the hand, they all sprang to fullest life as -though pricked by an electric shock. - -“Well--I’m da-asht!” - -“Alma! My _dear_!” - -“Con!--Is it true?” - -“Oh, you dear, horribly mean things!”-- - -“To do us out of it all like that!” - -“Horrid of them, but awfully jolly all the same!” - -“You see,” said Con,--when Alma had kissed them all round, and he had -insisted on one also, to the immense gratification of the girls,--“This -is war-time, and I am off to-morrow, and from my earliest youth I have -been taught never to put off till to-morrow what I could do to-day. And -so,--well!”--with a wave of the hand towards Alma,--“There it is!... We -knew we had your approval, sir. We knew Auntie Mitt would graciously -accept the fait accompli. And we hoped from the bottom of our hearts -that Vic and Honor would in time forgive us and receive us back into -their favour. And--we’re very happy over it.” - -There was no possible doubt about that, and the Colonel, who was the -only one who had any right to take exception to the matter, was far too -good a sportsman to cast any shadow of a shadow upon their happiness. -He had witnessed very many similar cases, and most of them had turned -out very happily--when they had had the chance. It was that possibility -only that added a touch of solemnity to his benediction,-- - -“Well, well! You’ve certainly given us a most delightful surprise, you -two. War, as I know by experience, is a mighty crystalliser of the -emotions, and essentially a promoter of prompt decisions. God grant you -all happiness, my dears!” and he kissed Alma as if she had been his -very daughter, and wrung Con’s hand warmly. - -“You look well in khaki, my boy,” he said, with his eyes still -glistening. - -“And feel well, sir. I am, I think, a man of peace, but the uniform -makes one feel distinctly soldierly, and if I find it absolutely -necessary to knock out a German or two I believe I could do it.” - -“What with?” asked Vic, fingering his empty scabbard. - -“Oh, with my fists if needs be. But I’m for binding not for wounding. -It would only be under a sense of the sternest necessity that I should -give that German a daud on the neb.” - -“I think I shall be a nurse,” said Honor. “You do look spiffing, Alma.” - -“Too late for this war, my child. ‘It’s a long long way to Tipperary,’ -and this is to be the last war. Still there’s always plenty to do even -in peace-times.” - -“Will you be going out too, Al?” asked Vic. - -“I don’t know yet. There’s sure to be a call for nurses. Wouldn’t it be -delightful to go out and meet Con there?” and her face was radiant at -the thought. - -Mrs Dare had made them promise to come back for dinner, so that Mr Dare -might have the chance of seeing them also. When, in due course, they -went across they found him just in from the City, and Con was struck -with the change these last ten days had made in him. - -He made, indeed, for their benefit a brave assumption of cheerfulness -and gave them very hearty greeting, but pretended to be scandalised at -their escapade, and expressed the hope that the Colonel had done his -duty and told them what he thought about them. - -They reassured him on that point and enquired for the latest news. - -“Things are moving fast,” he said soberly. “John Burns and Lord Morley -leave the Cabinet. Government takes over all the railways. Jellicoe is -to command the Fleet, French the Army, and Kitchener is to be Minister -of War.” - -“That’s good. He’ll stand no nonsense anyway.” - -“The Germans are attacking Liége furiously. Everyone is amazed that the -Belgians can stand up against them for a day. But every hour they can -hold them is gain to us and France. We are both taken unawares, you -see. And the fact of their tremendous onslaught shows that they were -all ready,--more than ready. What the upshot of it all will be it’s -hard to say. Germany is a very big nut to crack.” - -“And how are business matters, father?” asked Con quietly, between -themselves. - -“Bad, Con. And likely to be worse. There is to be a big issue of -paper,--ten-shilling and one-pound notes, and Lloyd George appeals very -earnestly to people not to draw gold from the banks. He is doing all he -can. But business is at a standstill, and as to getting in any money -from the Continent--! That’s all gone, I’m afraid.” - -“I’ve got a few hundreds saved. Would that be any use, sir?” - -“You’re a married man now and your wife must be your first -consideration,” said his father with a grave smile, which, however, -conveyed to Con his appreciation of his desire to help. “And your -uncle-in-law has very generously offered me assistance if I need it. At -present I don’t. If things come to the worst I may perhaps make some -arrangement with him. You see it’s a case of the devil and the deep -sea. On the one hand contracts made which I’m expected to fill, and, on -the other, total stoppage of the wherewithal to fill them. And again -goods I’ve paid for here and shipped, and no payment forthcoming for -them from Germany and Austria.” - -“There must be many in the same position. Won’t a state of war bar all -unpleasantness?” - -“It’s hard to say. We’ve had no experience of such a state of things, -you see. No doubt there will have to be give and take all round and -some working arrangement come to. I think there’s a general disposition -that way. But it’s very trying business,” he said wearily. - -“I’m sure it is, sir. I wish I could be of some help.” - -“You have your own work cut out for you, my boy, and fine work. It will -be a trial to you to leave now. But I suppose you considered all that.” - -“We did, sir. It is trying to have to part so soon, but it will be a -help to us both to feel that we belong to one another whatever comes.” - -“I hope to God you’ll come through all right, Con. For all our sakes -take every care you can, and don’t run into any unnecessary dangers.” - -“Trust me for that, sir.” - -Then the Colonel and the girls came across “for coffee and smokes, and -to see how Mrs Con was bearing up,” as Vic said, and they all fell to -talk about the war and the future, and on the Colonel’s part to the -extraction of the latest news from the City. - -“I hope you are not upset by these young people’s precipitancy,” said -Mrs Dare quietly to the Colonel, under cover of the general talk beyond. - -“On the contrary, my dear--, let me see, what _is_ the exact -relationship between us now? My niece, who is my daughter as it were, -is now your daughter also. And your boy is my nephew-in-law. What does -that make me to you?” - -“I give it up,” smiled Mrs Dare. “We will remain the best of friends.” - -“This makes us even closer than that. However, as I was saying, I’m -entirely and absolutely pleased with them. They’ve done the natural -thing under the circumstances. I’ve seen the same thing happen many -times before, and it generally turns out well. There are always risks -in war, of course----” - -“And as to that we can only leave them in God’s hands, and hope for the -best.” - -“Amen to that, best of friends! My girl has at all events shown wisdom -in her choice of a mother. We will hope ... and--er--pray”--he added, -with a touch of the naïve shyness of a man who was in the habit of -keeping his inmost feelings very strictly to himself,--“for their -welfare and happiness.” - -“Yes.... The times are very trying and will probably be more so, but -I’m inclined to think they may be the means of bringing out all that is -best in us all.” - -“War does that ... as something of a set-off for the darker side of it. -For it also brings out the worst unfortunately.” - -“Here are the boys,” said Mrs Dare, jumping up at the sound of heavy -boots on the path outside. “They generally come in together and they’re -always hungry. I’m the commissariat,” and she hastened away to see to -their provisioning. - -“Hel-lo!” cried Noel, in a pair of old riding-breeches and puttees, -at sight of the assembly, while Gregor, similarly apparelled, looked -eagerly over his shoulder in hopes of an approving spark in Honor’s -eye. “Quick, Mac!--salute, ye spalpeen, or ye’ll be shot at dawn. -Here’s a blooming little Horficer!” and they both drew themselves up -and saluted Con in smartest possible military style. - -“Why,” prattled Noel. “I’m blowed if it isn’t just old Con,--and Alma! -So you two have managed to hit the same day this time.” - -“Yes, we’ve managed it for once, No,” said Con. “How are you, Mac? -Allow me to introduce you to my wife,” with a proprietorial wave -towards Alma. - -“No!--really?” jerked Noel. - -“Really and truly,” laughed Alma. “I hope it isn’t objectionable to you -in any way.” - -“Lord, no! Quite the other way. If there’s two things I admire about -old Con they’re his uniform and his jolly old cheek. Think of him -going and getting you to marry him right away like that.” - -“He’s off to-morrow morning, you see, so I thought it best to make sure -of him.” - -“He’s really going? I wish we were.” - -“How do things stand with you now, Mac?” asked Con. “Any nearer -bull’s-eye?” - -“There’s rumours of a possible Second Battalion being formed, but -nothing definite. We’ve put our names down, and meanwhile we’re getting -ourselves into good shape. If they don’t buck up and do something -soon we shall try elsewhere. But we’d sooner be London Scottish than -anything else.” - -“You see, the girls there think we’d look so well in kilts,” broke in -Noel. - -“What on earth gave you any such impression as that, my child?” asked -Honor. - -“Oh, we can see it in your eyes.” - -“Ah,--little boys see what they want to see sometimes.” - -“When we can. Can’t always, can we, Mac?” - -“Come along, you hungry ones,” called Mrs Dare from the doorway, and -they sped away for a very necessary wash before eating. - -Alma’s short leave expired at ten o’clock, and as Con had promised to -return her safely to the hospital by that hour, they had to set off in -such time as would allow a margin for contingencies. - -Their good-byes were outwardly cheerful enough, and as exuberant -as high and hopeful spirits could make them. But, below all the -surface confidence and fortitude, not one of their hearts but was -saying to itself--“This is the beginning of partings,” and was -asking itself--“Shall we ever all meet again?” And the necessity for -smothering, as far as might be, the chill possibilities evoked by -these importunate voices, made the younger folk but the more outwardly -determined on most valiant gaiety. - -“Meet you across there, maybe, old man,” said Noel. - -“I’ll be on the look-out for you. Do my best for you in case of need.” - -“Do be careful not to lose one another on the way home,” begged Vic, -with an assumption of anxiety. “You are very young, you see, and -naturally somewhat entêtés at the moment.” - -“I’m inclined to think we really ought to go with them,” said Honor. -“They may wander away hand-in-hand, and never be heard of again. Get -your hat, Vic, and we’ll go.” - -“Right-o!” said Noel. “We’re on. We’ll go along too to take care of -you.” - -“Then we’ll stop at home,” said Honor resignedly. “We couldn’t think of -taking you out again after your hard day’s play.” - -“To say nothing of the fact that your southern extremities are inches -thick with mud,” said Vic. “Everybody we met would think we’d taken to -walking out with the gardener’s boys----” - -“Or the young butcherlings. Yes, we’re sorry, dears,”--to Con and Alma, -“but under the circumstances I’m afraid you’ll have to find your way by -yourselves.” - -“We’ll manage somehow,” said Con, and in their good-byes to the older -folk there were suspiciously shining eyes and lingering hand-grips and -convulsive kissings which told their own tales. - -“The beginning of partings!”... “Shall we ever all meet again?” ... and -hearts were heavy though faces smiled. - -“God bless you both and keep you from all harm!” was Mrs. Dare’s last -word, and with that in their hearts they ran across to say good-bye to -Auntie Mitt, who said exactly the same words and made no assumption of -anything but gloomiest forebodings as to the future. - -As to the Colonel, when they had actually gone, he blew his nose -like a trumpet-blast, till his moustache bristled white against the -dark-redness of his face, and he turned back into the room with a -fervent,--“Damn the Kaiser and all his works!... I trust you will -excuse me, best of friends!” - -“I will excuse you,” said Mrs Dare. “It is terrible for one man to have -such power for ill in his hands.” - - - - -XII - - -At the station Con got another taxi. - -“We could not stand the train to-night,” he said, as they swept down -into the high-road, and he slipped an arm round her and drew her close -and kissed her. “This will be our last little spell together for some -time probably.... You’ve not felt any qualms or regrets yet?” - -“Do I feel as if I had?” and she nestled the closer inside his -protecting arm. “I shall never feel anything but glad, Con, ... -whatever comes. We belong to one another and nothing can take that from -us.... But you will be very careful, dear, for my sake, won’t you?” - -“I will, dear. Be sure of that.... For the rest, we are in God’s hands -and we must just leave it at that.” - -They did not talk very much. It was enough to feel one another so close -in body and closer still in heart,--enough to lie back in the shadow, -with arms and hands interwoven, while the taxi whirled in and out of -the lamp-lights, and Alma’s face, sweet and strong in the restraint she -was imposing on herself, swam up out of the darkness like a beautiful -cameo growing under the unseen touch of a master-hand,--dim ... clear -... perfect, to his hungry eyes, as the face of an angel in its -confident hope and trust ... then in a moment it was gone, and all he -had was the feel of her as he watched for the first glimmer of her face -again in the darkness. - -They did not talk much, because there was so much to say--so little -need to say it--so much that could never be put into words. Silence and -nearness sufficed them,--the silence of overfull hearts, the nearness -of souls about to part,--perhaps, as each well knew, for ever. - -“Wife!” said Con one time, drawing her still closer, though that had -seemed impossible. - -“My husband!” murmured Alma, and drew his head down with her arm and -kissed him passionately. - -An unforgettable ride, and all too soon at an end. - -Con stopped the cab a hundred yards this side of the hospital, and they -walked slowly on towards the great gateway. - -It was still one minute to ten as they stopped there in its shadow. -There was little traffic at that time of night and few passers-by. - -He took her face gently between his hands and held it before him. He -could not see it but he knew the pure sweet eyes were looking straight -up into his. - -A big clock in the distance boomed the first stroke of ten. Their time -was up. He kissed her fervently, a kiss for each stroke, and she kissed -him back. - -“May God in His great mercy have us both in His keeping!” he said, -hoarse with the depth of his feeling. - -“Dear ... He will!” - -He turned and pressed the button of the bell. The door opened and, -with one more look, full of confident hope, she was gone--and in tears -before the door closed, but that he did not know. - -With that last sweet sight of her--to him the fairest vision of Faith -and Hope and Love Incarnate that ever was or could be--he turned and -walked away along the dark empty street, slowly and heavily, and felt -his life for the moment as dark and empty as the street. - - - - -XIII - - -When Lois Dare and Ray Luard came downstairs on the morning of August -7, they found the dark-panelled little salon of the ‘Golden Lion’ as -cheerfully bright as a blazing fire and a pale sunbeam could make it; -and outside, the upper alps of Urseren Thal were swathed with long -wreaths of mist, above which the white tops of the Spitzberge shone -like silver in the sunshine. - -Freda came hastening in with the coffee and milk and a distressed face -on their account. - -“But it is too bad for you,” she burst out. “They have just sent us -word on the telephone that there will be no diligence to-day, nor any -more at all. All the horses are wanted for the war,--ach!--the cursed -war! It will be the ruin of us all.” - -“That’s all right, Freda,” said Lois cheerfully. “Don’t worry about it -on our account. We’ll manage quite well.” - -“We walked here, you see,” said Ray. “And we’ll just walk on over the -Furka and down the valley till we get to Montreux--if there are no -trains running.” - -“But, mon Dieu, what a walk! To Montreux! It will take you weeks!” - -“Not a bit. We get along quicker than that. So get our bill made -out,--that’s a good girl, and we’ll start as soon as we’ve finished -breakfast.” - -“Shall I put you up some lunch, monsieur and mademoiselle?” - -“No,” said Ray, after a moment’s thought. “We’ll have a proper lunch -and a good rest at the Furkablick,--or the Belvédère, if we can get -that far, and then get on to Oberwald. I don’t want to stop at -Gletsch,” at which Freda smiled knowingly. - -She added four different kinds of cheese to their menu, buzzed about -them to see that they laid in adequate supplies of honey and blaeberry -jam, and finally brought them a bill which surprised them by its -modesty and provided Ray with a pocketful of change out of a five-pound -note. - -From the length of time Freda took to bring back the change he opined -that she had had some difficulty in obtaining it. But how much he never -knew. - -For Madame of the hotel had, for the first time in her life, looked -dubiously at an English five-pound note. - -“But, Freda,” she said, “Will that be all right if England is beaten in -the war, as they say she will be?” - -“She won’t,” said Freda oracularly. “And in any case an English -five-pound note is always good.” - -“I don’t know. It always has been, but----” - -“I will change it myself then. I have no fear of England being beaten -by any pigs of Germans. It’s enough to make you sick just to hear them -eat,” and she took the note and climbed up to her own small room, -and opened her box, and got out the other box in which she kept her -savings, and came back with the change in her hands, much of it in -five-franc pieces. - -“Là!” she chirped triumphantly. “There then is madame’s money, and here -is monsieur’s change. I would not have them think we doubt them,--no, -not for five francs,” and she went off with the receipted bill and the -change on a plate. - -“Freda,” said Ray, as he added a lordly remembrance for herself, “I’d -like to stop here for a month.” - -“Well--why not? Monsieur and mademoiselle will be very welcome indeed,” -and Freda’s beam was a thing to remember. - -“Duty calls, my child. We’re going to Montreux to get married, you -know, and then we want to get home as soon as circumstances will -permit. Any news this morning?” - -“By the telephone they say there is terrible fighting in Belgium. The -poor little country! I was there for a year, in Bruxelles. They are -such nice quiet people, but not great fighters, I would think. And the -Germans--they are strong. Oh, it is terrible to think of.” - -Half an hour later, while the sun was still wrestling with the -mist-wreaths, they were climbing the long straight road to Realp. -Turning off there by the second bridge, they took the old road in -order to avoid the endless zig-zags of the new one, and following the -telegraph posts they mounted rapidly towards the little Galenstock -Hotel. - -On the Ebneten Alp, below the hotel, they sat down on a glacier-scored -boulder for a last look over the Urseren-Thal and a rest before -tackling the Furka. It was a wonderful sight--the wide green sweep -of the valley right to the great white barracks at Andermatt and the -zig-zags of the Oberalp-road beyond;--on the one side, the sprawling -green and gray limbs of Spitzberge, still dappled with mist-wreaths but -shining like frosted silver up above;--on the other side Piz Lucendro, -with the Wyttenwasser-Thal and glacier below it;--and the upward road -which led to the Furka was all white with snow. - -It made the walking more difficult, but the air was crisp and clear up -there and the very fact of walking on snow was exhilarating. In places -it was over their shoe-tops and the drifts by the road side, when they -plunged their poles into them, were many feet deep. - -Far away below them in the Garschen-Thal they could see the cuttings -and bridges for the new railway from Brigue to Disentis and Ilanz, but -there was no work going on. The men had all gone to the front, and the -unnatural offence of their blastings and delvings was for the time -being suspended, though the scars and wounds of their previous efforts -remained in painful evidence. - -Presently they walked up into a mist-wreath and had the novel -experience of plodding along an invisible road smothered in -close-packed glimmering whiteness. The sun outside was evidently -shining brilliantly on the thick bank of mist, but, so far, its -rays failed to disperse it and penetrated only in a weird luminous -diffusion, which had a most curious effect on the senses. - -It made Lois’s head spin till she reeled dizzily along and at last -clung to Ray’s arm for safety. - -“I believe I’m drunk,” she laughed mazedly. “Have we had anything -stronger than coffee this morning?” - -“Not that I remember,” laughed Ray, in the same high-strung way. -“Unless you slipped into one of the hotels we passed unbeknown to me. -It’s queer, isn’t it? I feel absolutely light-headed. In fact I think -the top front of my head is coming off. Hel-lo! Who’s this now?” - -This was a burly overcoated sentry, who loomed suddenly large in front -of them and courteously informed them that they must keep to the lower -road as this one led only to the barracks. So they stumbled back till -they came on the main road again, and feeling their way by the granite -posts, set up along the side of the road to keep the diligence from -tumbling over into the valley, they came at last to the Furkablick -Hotel, and were glad to grope into the hall and warm themselves at the -blazing stove. - -“We can’t possibly go on if it keeps like this,” said Ray. “It’s -neither safe nor wholesome. We can see nothing and might find ourselves -walking over the edge into the valley.” - -“Suppose we have lunch and a good rest, and perhaps it will draw off. -How far is it to the place we were to stop for the night?” - -“It’s about six miles to the Gletsch,--a bit less by the short cuts, -and four miles or so on to Oberwald.” - -“Say three hours. We can give it a couple of hours to clear off, or -even more if necessary.” - -So they fared sumptuously, and both fell fast asleep in big arm chairs -near the stove in the salon afterwards, and when Ray yawned and woke it -was close on three o’clock, and the sun had won and the mountains all -round were shining white against the clear deep blue. - -There was no one else in the salon. There seemed, in fact, no one else -in the hotel except a few officers who kept to the smoking-room. So he -kissed Lois awake, and in five minutes they were footing it gaily up -the Furka road, with the Bernese giants towering in front and dwarfing -all the lesser wonders closer at hand. - -“That must be Finsteraarhorn,” said Ray, pointing to the highest and -sharpest peak. “And that one further on is probably Jungfrau, but I -know her better from the other side.” - -Then they passed the fortifications and turned a corner, and the -great Rhone glacier lay below them, dappled here and there, where the -sun got into the hollows, with the most wonderful flecks of fairy -colour--tenderly vivid and lucently diaphanous blues and greens so -magically blended that Lois caught her breath at the sight. - -“How beautiful! How beautiful!” she murmured. “It is a dream-colour, -but I never dreamed anything half so lovely.” - -He could hardly get her along. She wanted to stop at every second step -to gloat on some fresh wonder. But they came at last, by slow degrees, -to the point, just below the Belvédère, where sturdy pedestrians can -drop from the main road into the valley and so avoid the tedious -winding-ways. - -“We’ll get down here, if you think you can manage it,” said Ray. “Then -we can get right up to the glacier-foot where the Rhone comes out. It’s -worth seeing, but it’s a bit of a scramble down unless they’ve improved -the path.” - -“I’ll manage it all right if you’ll go first and show me the way.” - -So they started on that somewhat precarious descent, and had gone but a -little way when Ray began to be sorry he had not stuck to the solider -footing of the road. - -For the apology of a path had in places disappeared entirely under the -attrition of the wet season and many heavy boots. Whole lumps of it had -slipped away and left gaps and slides down which a rough-clad Switzer -might flounder with possible impunity, but which suggested serious -possibilities to the ordinary traveller. - -He had gone on hoping it would improve, but it did not. Instead it grew -worse. But if falling down such awkward slides was no easy matter, -re-climbing them to gain the high road was next to impossible. - -They bumped and slipped and floundered downwards as best they could. - -“I’m truly sorry,” he said, as he helped her down one specially awkward -place. “It was nothing like this last time I came.” - -“It’s all right,” she laughed. “It’s fun--all in the day’s work. Don’t -tumble right out of sight if you can help it.” - -And then he did. A lump of rock to which he had trusted his foot came -squawking out of the wet bank, and he and it went down together a good -half-dozen yards. - -He brought up with his rucksac over his head and turned at once to see -to her safety. - -“All right,” he shouted. “No bones broken. But I don’t advise you to -try it. Strike to the right and try and find a better place. Throw me -down your rucksac and cloak, then you’ll be free-er.” - -She dropped them down to him, with a startled look on her face, and he -scrambled round, as well as he could so laden, to meet her round the -corner. But she had to make quite a long détour before she came at last -on another and less precarious path and was at last able to join him. - -“Sure you weren’t hurt?” she asked anxiously. - -“Quite sure. Bit scraped, that’s all. I suppose it’s the rains that -have boggled the path so. Now, if we keep on round here we’ll be able -to get right up to the ice-cave where the stream comes out. Here’s -the rain on again. Better put that cloak on,” and they scrambled on -over the rough detritus from the glacier and the hillsides till they -reached the ice-foot, and stood looking into the weird blue-green -hollow out of which the gray glacier water came rushing as though in -haste to find a more congenial atmosphere. - -“It’s the most wonderful colour I’ve ever seen,” she said, drinking -it in with wide appreciative eyes. “It hardly looks real and earthly. -It looks as though a breath would make it vanish. I suppose if we got -inside there it would simply be all white.” - -But just then, in sullen warning, a solid lump of overhanging ice came -down with a crash, and a volley of stones came shooting at them mixed -with its splinters, and they turned and went on their way down the -stony valley. - -The rain ceased again just as they arrived at the big hotel, and as Ray -swung off his cloak and shook it, Lois laughed and said, - -“When we get to Oberwald you must hand me over your trousers and I’ll -stitch them up.” - -“Why?--what?--” and he clapped his hands to his hips to feel the -damage, while Lois still stood laughing at the rents and tears which -his cloak had so far hidden. - -“I should keep my cloak on if I were you,” she suggested, and then -asked quickly, “Why--Ray? What is it? Are you more hurt than you -thought?”--for the look on his face was one of concern if not of actual -consternation. - -“I am,” he jerked, with a pinch on his face, and then he felt hastily -in his other pockets and the tension slackened somewhat. “But it’s not -in my person,--only in my pocket. Would you mind kicking me, dear? -Here,--we’ll go round the corner,” and he stepped back the way they had -come. “And--would you also mind telling me what money you have in your -pocket or your rucksac.” - -“Not very much, I’m afraid. Two or three pounds, I think. Why?” - -“Because,” he said, displaying the catastrophe. “That stupid slip of -mine has busted my hip-pocket and all our money’s gone. All except the -change out of this morning’s five-pounder. With that and yours we can -get to Montreux all right, and I can wire from there to Uncle Tony, but -it’s confoundedly stupid,----” - -“Couldn’t we find it if we went back?” - -“I’m going to try, but you’ll stop here and have some tea to pass the -time.” - -“Oh no, I won’t. It’s share and share alike. Aren’t we almost man and -wife? Come along! We’ll have a hunt for our money anyway,” and she led -the way back towards the glacier. - -They searched for an hour, but looking for a flat leather purse in -that stony land was like searching for the proverbial needle in the -haystack. They found the exact spot where Ray took his sudden slide, -but search below it discovered nothing. They followed step by step the -way he had taken till he met Lois and then, as well as they could, -the path they had taken to the ice-foot. But there was no sign of the -purse and he came to the conclusion that his pocket was probably torn -by the slide and the purse fell out of it later on,--anywhere down the -two-mile stretch of stony valley between them and the hotel. - -They paced it with meticulous care, searching cautiously, but found -nothing, and at last gave it up and went on,--soberly as regards Ray, -amusedly as regards Lois, who persisted in looking only at the humorous -side of the matter. - -“We’ll walk all the way,” she laughed, “and pick out the -cheapest-looking hotels, and you’ll have to haggle like a German about -terms.” - -“I’m awfully sick of myself for being such an ass,” he said gloomily. -“It’s hateful to be short of cash in a strange land. I often used to -run it pretty close. I remember once reaching home from this very place -with only a halfpenny in my pocket. I remember I wanted a cup of tea -on the train, more than I’d ever wanted one before, and I had to go -without.” - -“Had you lost your purse then also?” asked Lois mischievously. - -“No,--just stopped longer than I’d planned and ran it a bit too fine.” - -They plodded into Oberwald just before dark, and stumped heavily up -the steep wooden steps that led from the stony road to the door of -the little Furka Hotel, fairly tired out with the day’s walk, which -their diversion in search of Ray’s purse had extended, he reckoned, to -close on five-and-twenty miles, and he proceeded to haggle with the -depressed-looking landlady like any German of them all. - -She was glad enough to have them, however, even on their own terms, and -gave them a quite sufficient supper, in which three different kinds -of sausage, and veal in several guises, figured principally; and her -bed-rooms, if somewhat meagrely furnished, were at all events clean. -And they went up early to bed, tired with their long tramp and still -tireder,--as Ray expressed it, concerning himself--of playing the fool -with his money and throwing it about for some wiser man to pick up. - -The landlady knew nothing about the war, except that the diligences -had stopped running because the horses were wanted, and most of the -men had gone--to Thun, or Berne, she was not quite sure where, but it -was all because of the talk of war, and she did not hold with any of -it,--stopping business and upsetting everybody and everything. - -Oberwald, they decided, could not at the best of times be a very -inspiring place. Under the shadow of the war-cloud it was dismal. They -had early breakfast on the wooden platform outside the front door, -while the deserted village below and about them roused itself, lazily -and obviously against the grain, to its day’s work. - -But Ray was obviously not up to his usual standard, even though Lois -had borrowed needle and thread from the landlady and had patched up his -rents with deft fingers and visible enjoyment at being of service to -him. - -“You’re not letting that old purse worry you, are you?” she had asked, -as they sat over their coffee and cheese and honey on the wooden -platform. - -“Not at the loss of it, though the stupidity of losing anything always -annoys me. It’s the possible consequences I’m thinking of. It came -on me all in a heap in the night that it’s just possible we may have -difficulty in communicating with them at home if things are really -bad. I wish to goodness we could get some definite news. I wanted very -much to take you up the Eggishorn--it’s just close here, and it seems -a shame to pass right under it without going up. You don’t really know -what a glacier’s like till you’ve seen the Aletsch. But....” - -“I think we’d better go right on. We can come back some other time and -see all these things. Suppose they shouldn’t have got your telegram -from Leipsic! They’ll be getting frightfully anxious about us. Let us -get on as quickly as possible.” - -“I’m afraid there’s nothing else for it,” he said regretfully. “Let’s -see now--it would take us at least four days to walk down the valley to -Montreux.... How much money did you say you have with you?” - -“I’ve got three pounds, five shillings. I’ll get it for you.” - -“No. Better keep it safe. I might lose it, you know. Well, four days’ -tramping at the lowest possible rate means at least forty francs. It -will pay us to take the train from Brigue. There’s a quick train about -mid-day, I remember ... that is, if it’s still running. They may have -taken the trains off also. It comes from Milan, you see, through the -Simplon.” - -“Third class?” - -“Rather. I’ve come home by it more than once, and it’s generally packed -with Italians, who are not the pleasantest of travelling companions. -But needs must when you’re such a fool as to lose your purse,--and -they’re probably all being kept at home just now anyway. We had a -tough day yesterday, so to-day we’ll just jog along to Fiesch. That’s -another place I wanted you to stop at. Most fascinating country, all -the hillsides covered with little irrigation channels about a foot -wide, and the natives spend most of their time turning them on and off. -That’s where you strike up for the Eggishorn ... and the Märjelen See -... and then there’s Binn.... It’s a mighty pity to pass them all ...” -and he rattled the few coins in his pocket thoughtfully. - -But--“Needs must!” said Lois firmly, anxious to get into touch with the -outer world again and especially with the folks at home. - -“Wait a bit!” said Ray thoughtfully, and got down the map from its peg -in the hall, and began figuring with his pencil on the back of the bill -the landlady had just brought him, which came to 9.50 francs for the -two of them. “Just ... you ... wait ... a bit ... my child!” and he -measured and figured away with immense energy and growing enjoyment. - -“We can do it all right,” he burst out at last. “See here!--We’ve got -160 francs left after settling up here. We’ll get Madame here to put us -up the usual trampers’ lunch,--that’s one franc each. We’ll walk on to -Fiesch and then up to the little Firnegarten Inn--small but clean--on -the Fiescher Alp, and stop the night there. That’ll be, say, 10 francs. -It would cost us more down below. To-morrow we’ll make an early start -and climb up to the Märjelen See and the Eggishorn, taking our lunch -with us again. Then we’ll come down by the big hotel,--we can only -afford to look at the outside of it this time,--and walk along the -ridge to Rieder Alp. It’s wonderful,--worth coming all the way from -England for,--that and the Aletsch. Stop the night at Rieder Alp. That -will be say 12 francs, if I haggle well. And next day we’ll walk down -to Brigue and Oberried and Bitsch and the Massa, and get the mid-day -train there for Montreux,----” - -“If it’s running.” - -“If not we’ll just toddle on.” - -“But can we afford it?” - -“Including fares and all it will come to just about as much as four -days’ tramping along the road. And two days up aloft here are worth -forty days on that road. The road’s fine but it’s not to be compared -with the bridle path along Rieder-Alp.” - -He was so obviously set on it that, in spite of her anxiety to get on, -she had not the heart to raise any objection, and five minutes later -they were on the road, with the dew-drenched green slopes above and -below them shimmering like diamond-dust in the early sunshine, and -Ray’s spirits at their highest again at this getting the better of the -misfortune that would have done them out of the best bit of the journey. - -As to the fact that they would arrive in Montreux with only 120 francs -between them, that did not trouble him in the slightest now that they -were going up aloft. - -“I’ll wire Uncle Tony the very first thing when we get there. It’ll be -quite all right, you’ll see, my child. ‘The year’s at the Spring----’” - -“Ninth of August!” - -“That’s nothing. It’s our year I’m talking of, and it’s only a week -or so after New Year’s Day.... ‘The day’s at the morn. Morning’s at -seven;’----” - -“Nearer eight,”--with a glance at her wrist-watch. - -“‘The hillside’s dew-pearled,’----” - -“Undoubtedly,”--with a comprehensive wave of the hand uphill and down. - -“‘The lark’s on the wing;’----” - -“Maybe--somewhere.” - -“‘The snail’s on the thorn; God’s in His Heaven; All’s right with the -world!’” - -“With your and my little world. But, oh, I wonder what’s going on -outside there, Ray! It’s terrible to think of war at any time, even -though we none of us really know what it means. But for all the Great -Powers to be flying at one another’s throats,--and England too! I can’t -realise it.” - -“Don’t try, child. Rhenius may have caught some flying nightmare by -the tail. I haven’t much faith in Italian newspapers. Anyway we’ll make -the most of these few days of grace and be thankful for them.... You -see, if things really are as bad as he said, we may be stuck for some -time in Switzerland, and an extra day up here in heaven will make no -difference in the end and is all to the good now. Learn to gather your -roses while you may, my child,” and his determined enjoyment carried -the day. - -They made Fiesch about noon, and Ray marched her right through the -little town to the house he had stopped at more than once--the -cosy-looking little Hotel des Alpes, near where the rushing Fieschbach -flung its gray waters into those of the Rhone. - -They knew him there and were much hurt that he had not come to stop -with them again, and were greatly interested in Lois. He had to explain -matters very fully before they were pacified sufficiently to permit him -to have a bottle of Asti, with a small table and two chairs outside in -the sunshine, and the mistress and the two comely maids hung about them -all the time they ate their Oberwald lunch of bread and sausage and -cheese and biscuits, and insisted on supplementing it with apples and -pears and grapes, grumbling good-humouredly at him and chattering and -giving such news as they had. - -“You’d do much better to stop with us. Firnegarten cannot keep very -much of a table up there, you know. Most people go right on to the -Jungfrau Hotel for the night----” - -“I know. But we’re pauper-tramps, you see, till we get to Montreux, and -we have to look twice at every sou. You see, I was fool enough to lose -my purse up at Gletsch there----” - -“Ach! To lose your purse! That was foolishness. But if you had come to -us we would have helped you.” - -“It’s awfully good of you, and we’re going to come back here -as soon as ever we can. There’s heaps of things I want to show -mademoiselle,--Binn, and the Fiescher Glacier, and Ernen--oh, heaps. -But now we’ve got to get on. We’re going to get married as soon as we -reach Montreux, but I couldn’t bear to stump along the road down here -when Aletsch and the Rieder-Alp called me. Mademoiselle is not at all -sure we’re doing the right thing in not going straight on.” - -“You will never regret it, mademoiselle,” they assured her. - -“Though, of course, when one is hurrying along to get married,--” -interjected one of the girls thoughtfully. - -“The Great Aletsch is a thing to see before one dies,--” continued -Madame. - -“Or even before one gets married, when you have to pass right under -it,” said Ray. “And the Märjelen----” - -“Ach--the poor Märjelen! It is gone. It got a hole in it somewhere and -all the water has run out, and so now there is nothing to see.” - -“So! But the Aletsch is still there?” - -“Och, yes! The Aletsch can never run away through a hole. There it is -and there it will remain till the world comes to an end.” - -“And the war? What news have you?” - -“They are fighting terribly over there, it seems,--at some place called -Liége. But we do not hear very much since the diligence stopped. And -all our visitors went away at once. We were quite full and not one has -come since. War is bad for everybody. For me, I cannot understand what -people want to fight for. It will not come into Switzerland, do you -think, monsieur?” - -“I shouldn’t think so, but when war once starts you never know where it -will stop. And I’ve no doubt Germany would be only too glad to get hold -of Switzerland if she got half a chance.” - -“Ach--those Germans! No, I do not like them. Whenever I see one come -in here I say to myself, ‘Another trouble-maker!’ They are never -satisfied, and they want everything--except to pay proper prices. No, I -do not like them. If they all get killed in the fighting I shall not -care one bit.” - -Their leave-taking could hardly have been warmer if Madame had been -jingling in her hand a whole month’s pension fees instead of the price -of a modest bottle of Asti, and presently they were slowly and steadily -climbing the steep and stony path to Firnegarten. - -The maid in charge there was sister to one of those down below, and -she also remembered Ray. She was much astonished at their intention of -stopping the night there, and laughed merrily when Ray proceeded to -hammer her price down to his level and then explained why he was, for -once, acting like a German. - -She made them very comfortable, however, in a simple way, and obviously -enjoyed their company. They went early to bed, and were well on their -way up the Fiescher Alp soon after seven next morning. - -It was close on noon before they struggled up the tumbled débris of the -top, and sank down on a flat rock, with that great glory of the Aletsch -glacier sweeping down in front of them, from the great snow-basins of -Jungfrau and Finsteraarhorn, till it curled out of sight behind the -green ridges of Rieder-Alp away down below them on the left. - -“The Chariots of the Lord!” came involuntarily to Lois’s lips as she -sat gazing on it, and her eyes followed the strange dark parallel -lines which ran throughout its length and looked exactly like gigantic -wheel-tracks. “What makes them?” - -“The continuous slow downward movement of the ice, I believe. It picks -off earth and stones from the sidewalls and gradually throws them into -exact lines like that. Curious, isn’t it? I remember it struck me in -just the same way the first time I saw it.” - -It was long before she could be got to look at anything else. - -“I can’t help expecting it all the time to do something,” she explained. - -“I know. But it never does. See!--that’s Jungfrau over there, and -that one is Finsteraarhorn. And round this other side you can see the -Matterhorn and Mont Blanc. Those big white lumps are the Mischabels.” - -In time he got her to start on her lunch, though she asserted that it -felt like eating in church,--desecration. - -“I’m glad you insisted on coming,” she said softly. “It is a sight one -could never forget,” and he was radiant. - -“And to think,” she said again, presently, “that over yonder the guns -are booming and men are doing everything they know to kill one another! -Isn’t it dreadful to think of--in face of this great silent wonder -which takes one’s thoughts right up to God?” - -“It’s simply brutal.... I just hope whoever’s to blame for bringing it -about will get whipped out of existence.” - -He could hardly drag her away. She vowed she could never weary of -that most wonderful sight, and was certain it would begin to move if -they only waited long enough. And so it was a very tired but very -well-satisfied pair that dropped into the first chairs they came to in -the homely little Riederalp Hotel, with barely enough energy left to -arrange terms on the German plan. - -Next morning they came down the steep wooded ways by Oberried and -Bitsch and the Massa gorge, and reached Brigue exactly fifteen minutes -before a train started for Montreux. - -The run down the Rhone Valley and up to Montreux was full of enjoyment, -tempered only by their doubts as to being able to get any further than -that. - -Ray pointed out to her all the things he knew,--the new Lötschberg -line away up on the opposite mountain-side,--the openings of Nicolai -Thal, leading to Zermatt and Saas Fée,--the Val d’Anniviers leading -to Zinal, and the Val d’Herens to Arolla, and promised to take her to -them all when the times got re-jointed. Then they were at Martigny, and -presently the flat delta and the upper end of the lake came into sight, -and Chillon, and they were at Montreux. - -Ray enquired at once from the station-master as to trains for Paris. - -“Paris, mon Dieu?” jerked that much harassed official. “Ask again in a -fortnight’s time, monsieur, and perhaps we shall know something then!” -and Ray made at once for the Post Office and wrote out a telegram to -Uncle Tony,--“Just arrived here. Both well. Lost purse. Send cash Poste -Restante.” - -The young man behind the official window looked at the address and -said in excellent English, “We can send it from here, but we cannot -make sure it will ever get there. You see it must go through France or -Germany, and they are fighting and everything is disarranged.... It is -very awkward,” as they looked at one another in dismay. - -“Very awkward!” said Ray. “Please do your best. Are letters coming -through?” - -“Not from England for some days. Doubtless in time matters will arrange -themselves.” - -In time, doubtless! But the one thing about which there was no doubt -whatever was the fact that they were in a strange land, cut off from -communication with their own, and that the sum total of their united -funds amounted to something under five pounds,--and there was no saying -when they could procure more. - - - - -XIV - - -Alma at St Barnabas’s, and Mrs Dare at The Red House each received -a brief note from Con, from Southampton, saying he was leaving -immediately but was not permitted to say more. - -He seemed in the best of spirits and said he had plenty to do. After -that the vail of war fell between him and them, and to them was left -the harder task of possessing their souls in hope, with such patient -endurance as they could draw from higher hidden sources. Both, -however,--Alma in her crowded ward, and Mrs Dare in the less strenuous -and so the more meditative sphere of home,--went about their daily -tasks with tranquil faces which permitted no sign to show of the fears -that might be in them. It was their quiet part in the crisis to give of -their best and suffer in silence, as it was the part of the millions of -other women similarly circumstanced. - -Mr Dare had perhaps the heaviest burden to bear at this time, and in -spite of his attempts at cheerfulness the weight of it was apparent in -him. His business at a deadlock, valued customers urgently claiming -the fulfilment of contracts, the goods they wanted hermetically sealed -within the flaming borders of Germany and Austria, accounts for goods -sent to those countries falling due, and no money forthcoming from -abroad to meet them. No wonder he looked harassed and aged, and at -times grew somewhat irritable under the strain. - -What his wife was to him in those days none but he knew,--not even Mrs -Dare herself in full. In her own quiet fashion she would at times draw -him gently on to unburden himself to her in a way that would have been -impossible to anyone else, and her great good sense would seek out the -hopeful possibilities and tone down the asperities of life. And when -things were past speaking about she would show, by her silent sympathy -and brave face, that she understood but still had faith in the future. - -But for an unusually alert and active business man to find himself, -without warning, plunged suddenly into a perfect morass of -difficulties, for which no blame attached to anyone save to the blind -precipitancy of untoward circumstance;--to find himself helplessly idle -where his days had always been briskly over-full,--it was enough to -drive any man off his balance, and in some cases it did. - -He went down to St Mary Axe each morning and stopped there all day in -gloomy exasperation. He explained his situation to irritated clamourers -for goods till he grew sick of explaining. He was grateful when release -came at night; and in the night he lay awake at times and hugged -to himself the few precious hours which still intervened before he -must shoulder his burden again. Sunday he looked forward to, all the -week long, as a dies non when business matters ceased perforce from -troubling and his weary soul could take its rest. He longed for weeks -of Sundays. At times, in his utter weariness, the thought of the final -unbroken rest made infinite appeal to him. - -The complete lack of any word from Lois and Ray added not a little to -their anxieties. The Colonel, indeed, never would admit any possibility -of mischance in the matter. - -“Don’t you worry, Mrs Mother,” he would adjure her. “They’re having the -time of their lives somewhere or other, I’ll wager you a sovereign.” - -“If they’re shut up in Germany it may be a very unpleasant time,” -argued Mrs Dare. - -“But they’re not. Ray’s no fool and he got out of that trap instanter. -Of that I’m certain. Where to I can’t, of course, say. Tirol seems -nearest, from the map----” - -“That’s Austria,” said Mrs Dare quietly. - -“Well then, Switzerland--Russia--Italy--anywhere,--I don’t know. But -if he’s still in Germany he’s a much bigger fool than I ever thought -him. They’re all right. Don’t you worry!”--which was all most excellent -in intention but did not bring to the anxious mother-heart the comfort -that one word from the missing ones would have done. - -But the Colonel was too busy to waste time and energy in worrying, and, -besides, he was not given that way. Immediately on the declaration of -war, he had donned his uniform and gone down to Whitehall and tendered -his services in any capacity whatever. His bluff, antique enthusiasm -overcame even the natural repugnance of War-Office messengers to -further the wishes of any but their own immediate chiefs, and he -succeeded in seeing Lord Kitchener, whom he had not met since they -toiled up Nile together in quest of Gordon. - -The quiet, level-eyed man, who had gone so far and high since those -days, gave him cordial greeting and expressed the hope that the younger -generation would exhibit equal public spirit, in which case this -belated creation of a sufficient fighting force would prosper to the -extent of his wishes, which he acknowledged were great, though not more -than the dire necessities of the case called for. He tactfully switched -the Colonel’s enthusiasm on to the recruiting branch line, and the -fiery little warrior had since then been devoting himself, heart and -soul, to the business of presenting Kitchener’s Army to the youth of -Willstead and neighbourhood as the one and only legitimate outlet for -its duty to its King and Country. - -With his V.C. and his Crimean and Mutiny and African medals, he made a -brave show on a platform, and his fervid exhortations persuaded many -from the outer back rows to the plain deal tables where the recruiting -forms awaited them. - -He toured the neighbouring villages in a motor car, and until the -muddle-headed mismanagement by the authorities of the earlier comers -cast somewhat of a chill on their waiting fellows, the Colonel was a -great success. - -Noel and Gregor MacLean were still impatiently hanging on for the -War Office to decide whether or not the London Scottish were to be -permitted to form a Second Battalion. And Noel, with the impetuosity of -youth, grew so restive under the strain at times that he stoutly urged -Gregor to enrol with him in one of the regiments of Kitchener’s army. - -“Man!” he would growl, after the usual ineffectual visit to -Headquarters. “We’re going to get left. It’ll all be over and done with -before we get a look in. Let’s join the Hussars!” - -“I’m for the London Scottish, my boy, if it’s at all possible. They -say they’ll know in a week or two for certain, and we can wait all -right. I know such a lot of the fellows there and I’d sooner be among -friends. It makes a mighty difference and they’re all good chaps in the -Scottish. Besides I’ve a natural yearning for the kilt. If they shut -down on us, then we’ll sign on wherever you like.” - -“Hang it, man! The fun’ll all be over.” - -“Don’t you believe it, my son. K of K isn’t raking in all these men -just to amuse himself. He’s the squarest-headed chap we’ve got, and -those eyes of his see a long long way past Tipperary, you bet. We’re up -against a jolly tough job and he knows it.... Anyway we’ll be fitter -than most when they do take us on. I bet you there aren’t many recruits -can down ten out of twelve clays at two hundred yards.” - -This was Noel’s top score so far. He was rather proud of it and -judicious reference to it always had a soothing effect on his feelings. -So they strenuously kept up their training, walking all the way in and -back whenever they went up to Buckingham Gate for news, and spending -much time and money at the shooting-grounds. - -The girls missed them, of course, but consoled themselves as best they -could with one another. They did a round of the links each day for -health’s sake, but felt the lack of Noel’s outspoken jibes and Gregor’s -curt criticisms and all the subtle excitation and enjoyment of the -former times, and learned that golf for duty and golf for pleasure are -greens of very different qualities. - -Still they would not have had it otherwise. The boys were doing their -duty as it appeared to them, and it was their portion to miss them -and get along as best they could without them. For their sakes they -heartily wished Headquarters would make up its mind what it was going -to do, and get them settled down to actual work and disciplined courses. - -For this waiting on and on, with no definite certainty as to the -outcome, was wearing on Noel’s temper, and bits of it got out on the -loose at home at times and disturbed the atmosphere somewhat. - -Like most boys of his age, when things went his way he was as pleasant -as could be. And they so generally had gone his way that when they did -not he resented it and let people know it. Like nine boys out of every -ten, whose chief concern in life had so far been themselves and their -own troubles and enjoyments, there was a streak of natural selfishness -in him, any implication of which he would have hotly resented. He -could be generous enough of his superfluities, but so far had had -to make no call on himself for the higher virtues of self-denial or -self-restraint. In short he was just an ordinary boy merging into man, -very full of himself and his own concerns and enjoyments, and at times -a little careless of others. - -This odd new friendliness which had sprung up of late between himself -and Victoria Luard was all very much to the good. It came in between -him and himself and made him feel ready, and even anxious, to do -great things for her, and to consider her feelings even before his -own. But, at the same time, his feeling of personal discrepancy with -regard to her, drove him in the rebound to occasional little displays -of bearishness and boyish arrogance, the springs of which Victoria -understood perfectly and was vastly amused at. - -Gregor MacLean, with the advantages of his extra five years and much -shoulder-rubbing with his fellows, had grown out of these youthful -discordances, and he sometimes took Noel humorously to task for his -little lapses, and Noel would take more from him in that way than from -anyone else. - -Honor of course, in sisterly fashion, saw his faults and did not pass -them over in silence. Still, she also generally did it in humorous -fashion which left no more than a momentary sting even if it did not -produce much result. - -Miss Mitten knitted untiringly. Victoria gravely asserted to Mrs Dare -and Honor, when they had dropped in for tea one afternoon, that, so -assured was Auntie Mitt that the outcome of the war depended entirely -on the number of body-belts and mufflers she could complete in a given -time, that she went on knitting all night long in her sleep. And Auntie -Mitt, in no way offended, though somewhat scandalised at such public -mention of her in the privacy of her bed, only smiled and knitted -harder than ever. - -“The cold weather will be coming soon,” she said gently, “and it’s cold -work fighting in the trenches.” - -“But, my dear Auntie Mitt, they don’t fight in trenches nowadays,” said -Vic. - -“No?... They used to. I remember ... I remember hearing much of the -discomforts of the trenches in the Crimean War from those who had taken -part in it.” - -“Nowadays they fire shell at you from four or five miles away and -you’re dead before you know what’s hit you,” said Honor. “It’s low kind -of fighting to my mind.” - -“Or drop bombs on you from aeroplanes without a chance of hitting -back,” added Vic, “which is lower still.” - -“Well ... I don’t myself agree with anything of that kind,” said Auntie -Mitt gently. “It certainly does not seem to me a very manly way of -fighting.” - -“It isn’t. But unfortunately it’s the way that’s in fashion,” said Vic. - -“It is very horrible,” said Mrs Dare, busy with her knitting also -and thinking of her two, one of whom would probably sooner or later -be exposed to these barbarous novelties of civilised warfare. “But -of course they respect the Red Cross men,”--in which case Con at all -events might possibly return alive. - -“Oh, they’ll respect the Red Cross all right, Mrs Mother,” said the -Colonel, catching her last words as he strode in, with an early evening -paper in his hand. “They’re big fighters but they’re civilised and -they’ll fight like Christians.” - -“What a horrible expression!” said Mrs Dare. “Fight like Christians!” - -“Yes,--I apologise and withdraw. You are quite right, Mrs Mother,” -with an old-fashioned little bow towards her. “It was not happily -expressed.... And yet Christians have to fight at times, and if ever -fighting was justified it is now--on our side. We’re fighting for Right -and for the rights of everybody outside Germany. Never in the history -of the world was there a more righteous war as far as we are concerned. -And so we are fighting like--or if you prefer it--as Christians.” - -“Yes, I prefer it that way. It is my only consolation when I think of -the boys. They are fighting for the Right.” - -“When they get to it,” said Honor. “What’s the latest, Colonel? Does -Liége still stand where it did?” - -“It stands marvellously--the forts that is. The Germans seem to have -the town, but the forts are still alive and kicking. It’s simply -marvellous how those Belgians have suddenly transformed themselves into -the pluckiest fighters the world has ever seen. Marvellous! No one ever -believed they could hold Germany’s millions for a day, and here they’ve -kept them at bay for a whole fortnight and given France time to get -herself in order. If the rest of the war goes the same way there can be -no doubt as to how it will end.” - -“Doubt?” echoed Vic scornfully. “You don’t mean to dare to say you’ve -ever had any doubts as to how it would end, Uncle Tony?” - -“There speaks Young England,--always cocksure of winning and inclined -to despise the enemy. If you had seen as much of war as I have, my -dear, you would be cocksure of nothing, except that you’d do your -duty to the last gasp and would have to leave the rest to Providence. -Germany is a tremendous fighting-machine. We have a tough job before -us, but we’re fighting for the Right and please God we’ll win. It’s -good to see the new spirit the war is evoking everywhere. Great Britain -and Ireland shoulder to shoulder, and India and all the colonies -rushing to help. It’s magnificent,--simply magnificent.” - -“Yes,” said Mrs Dare quietly. “It is doing good in that way, and in -matters at home also,--the matters which come home to the hearts of -us women. We’ve just formed a committee for looking after the wives -and children of the men who have to go to the front, and every single -person I’ve seen about it is keen to help,--people in some cases who -have hitherto shown no inclination for anything beyond their own -concerns.” - -“There will be a good deal of distress one way and another, I fear,” -said the Colonel, nodding thoughtfully. “That is if things go on as -they usually do.” - -“I’m inclined to hope they’ll go better,” said Mrs Dare. “Our men at -the head of affairs are in closer touch with the needs of the people -than yours ever have been,”--with a pacificatory little nod towards -him. “I know you don’t like Lloyd George, but you must acknowledge that -he has handled the financial situation in a masterly way.” - -“I do acknowledge it. And I’ll even go so far as to say that I don’t -believe our side would have handled the whole matter as well as it has -been done. We might. Men rise to the occasion,--as yours have done. -We might,--but I confess I don’t at the moment see which of our men -could have done what has had to be done as well as Sir Edward Grey, and -Churchill and Lloyd George and Asquith.” - -“Hooray!” cried Honor. “You’ll be on the right side yet, Colonel.” - -“I’m always on the side of right, anyway. What are you girls doing to -help?” - -“I’m going to knit body-belts and mufflers,” said Honor lugubriously. -“But I’m only a beginner and I’m shy of performing in public yet.” - -“And you, Victoria-who-ought-to-have-been-Balaclava?” - -“Our Central Committee in town is considering how we can best help, and -as soon as they decide I’m on to it. In the meantime, Honor is teaching -me to knit body-belts and mufflers,--that is, she’s passing on to me, -the beginnings of her own little knowledge,--though I don’t quite see -the need of them. It’ll all be over in a month, I expect.” - -“If it’s all over in six months I shall be more than glad,” said the -Colonel weightily. “And there’ll be plenty of cold days and nights -before then. However, I’m glad you’re all doing what you can. It’ll do -you all good.” - - - - -XV - - -“Yus!” said Mrs Skirrow, with an emphasis that carried conviction. “It -may seem a vi’lent utt’rance to you, mum, but, for me, I’m bound to say -I’m right down glad o’ this war. It’s tuk my three off o’ me hands, an’ -it’s givin’ me the time o’ me life.” - -“Where have they got to?” asked Mrs Dare sympathetically. - -“Jim and George, they’re in Kitchener’s lot at Colchester--the Hoozars, -and me old man’s back in th’ Army Transport, an’ if that don’t mek him -move his lazy bones I d’n know annything this side the other place that -will. It tired him so last time he was in it, that he’s bin resting -ever since. But it’s the thing he knows best, and when the call come he -forgot his tiredness an’ up an’ went like a man. ‘Damn that Keyzer!’ he -says,--you’ll pardon me, mum, but them was his identical words,--‘Damn -that Keyzer!’ he says. ‘He is the limit,--walking over little Belgium -with ’is ’obnails like that without so much as a by-your-leave or -beg-pardon. He’s got to be knocked out, he has, and I’m on to help jab -him one in the eye. And you two boys,’ he says, ‘you’re onto this job -too, or I’ll have the skin off of you both before you know where y’are. -Yer King and yer country needs yer.’ An’ if you’ll b’lieve me, mum, -they went like lambs.” - -“And why did they go into the Hussars? Can they ride?” - -“Divv--I mean, not a bit of it, mum. But they talked it over atween -themselves, and Jim, he said, if it come to riding or walking, he’d -sooner ride any day, an’ the spurs made a man look a man. So they -went up together and they was took on like a shot. An’ I’m to get -twelve-and-six a week now and mebbe more later on, they do say. I -ain’t got it yet, but it’s a-comin’ all right, an’ then----” - -“Well, I hope you’ll save all you can, Mrs Skirrow. You never know what -the future may bring, you know.” - -“That’s true, mum. But I’ve worked harder than most for these three -this many a year, and I’m inclined to think I’ll mebbe tek a bit of a -holiday and have a decent rest. How long d’you think it’ll go on, mum?” - -“I’m afraid no one can tell that, Mrs Skirrow. Colonel Luard says he -will be glad if it’s over in six months.” - -“Ah,--well,”--with a satisfied look on her face,--“that’s a tidy spell. -For me, if it was a year I d’n know as I’d mind. It’ll keep a lot o’ -men out o’ mischief.” - -“And put many out of life altogether, I’m afraid.” - -“Ay--well--mebbe! But there’s always the pension to look forward to, -an’ they do say it’s goin’ to be bigger than ever it was before.” - -“Yes, I’m sure everybody feels that everything possible should be done -for the men at the front and those they leave behind them.” - -“That’s right, mum. ’Tain’t such a bad old world after all. D’you hear -about the Chilfers down the road, mum?” - -“No. What about them?” - -“A rare joke. Everybody’s laughing at ’em. When yon first pinch come -and it lukt ’s if we might all be starvin’ inside a week, Mr Chilfer -he went up in his big motor to th’ Stores, and he come back with it -full,--’ams and sides o’ bacon, all nicely done up, an’ flour, an’ -cheeses, an’ I d’n know what all. Lukt like a Carter Paterson at -Christmas time, he did. An’ now prices is down again he wants to get -rid o’ the stuff, an’ nob’dy’ll luk at it ’cos it’s all goin’ bad on -’is ’ands. And serve him jolly well right!--that’s what I say.” - -“And I say the same. It was inconsiderate and selfish and decidedly -unpatriotic. If everybody had done like that where would the rest of us -have been?” - -“That’s it, mum. But it’s them Chilfers all over. I’m glad to say -they’ve tuk his car f’r the war, and they’ve tuk all the horses they -could lay their hands on. That’s rough on some. There’s Gilling down -our way. He runs a laundry. They stopped him in the street t’other day -an’ tuk his horse and left th’ van and th’ laundry he was delivering -right there. It’ll put a stop on him I’m thinking, and folks’ll have to -go dirty, unless th’ big laundries pick up all the business.” - -“There will be discomforts in all directions, I’m afraid, Mrs Skirrow. -But we’re much better off than the poor people in Belgium who are being -turned out in thousands and their homes burnt over their heads. It’s -dreadful work.” - -“’Tis that, mum. An’ begging your pardon, I says like my old man, ‘Damn -that Keyzer, and put the stopper on ’im as quick as may be!’” - -“One cannot help hoping he will suffer as he deserves.” - -“That’s right, mum! Bet you I’d trounce ’im if I got half a chance. -I’d twist his old neck like that, I would,”--and she wrung her wet -floor-cloth into her pail with a vehemence that imperilled its further -usefulness. “He’s an old divvle, he is, an’ th’ young one’s worse, they -say. All the same, if they c’d do it so’s none of ’em got killed, for -me I wouldn’t mind th’ war going on for quite a goodish bit.” - -“And I would be thankful if it all ended to-morrow.” - -“Ah! ’twon’t do that, mum,” was Mrs Skirrow’s safe prophecy. - -Since Con’s post-card saying they were expecting to leave within an -hour or two, they had had no word from him, nor was any information -as to the movements of the troops permitted in the papers. The rigid -censorship dropped an impenetrable vail between the anxious hearts at -home and the active operations abroad. - -It was a time and an occasion for the exercise of unparalleled and -implicit faith and hope and trust in the powers that held the ways, -and still more in the Highest Power of all. And on all sides was -manifested an extraordinary strengthening and quickening of those -higher and deeper feelings which had become somewhat atrophied during -the long fat years of peace. The nation and the Empire drew itself -together, forgot the little family disputes which had enlivened its -existence for so long, and stood shoulder to shoulder as never before. -The waters were troubled and the sick were healed. - -The Colonel, in the pursuit of his duties, was frequently at the War -Office. He heard, there and at his club, many things of which he never -spoke even to Mr and Mrs Dare in their intimate evening confabulations. - -The full bleak blackness of the days of Mons and Maubeuge were known to -him, and the peril of Le Cateau and Landrecies, and it was as much as -he could do to keep the weight of these grave matters out of his face -at times. - -He saw the casualty lists as they were compiled at the office, long -before they were issued, and groaned over them in general and in -particular. Killed, wounded, missing,--many whom he had known, and more -whose people he knew, were already gone. Who would be left when the -full tale was told?--he asked himself gloomily,--when this was barely -the beginning. - -Then, one day, his anxious old finger, following the list down, name by -name, stopped with a sudden stiffening on the name of “Dare, Lieut. C., -R.A.M.C.” under the head of “Missing,” and he had to inflate his chest -with a very deep breath and hold himself very tightly, before he could -mechanically get through the rest of the list. - -“Missing!”--Under all the ordinary circumstances of civilised warfare -that would leave abundant ground for hope. But the appalling stories he -had been hearing of late as to the newest German methods left only room -for fear. - -They were, on the most indisputable evidence, behaving worse than -the worst of savages. Their barbarous cruelties were the result of -a deliberate system of frightfulness and terrorism inspired by -headquarters. They had shocked and wounded his soul till at times it -had felt sick of humanity at large. But they filled him also with a -most righteous anger which helped to brace him up again. - -That a hitherto reputedly civilised nation could, of cold deliberation, -do such things!--and exult in them!--Faugh! It was savages they -were,--and worse than any savages he had ever come across! - -And so he feared the worst for Con, and his heart was heavy for Con’s -wife and mother and father. - -He went over to his club to think it over, but found too many friends -there for his present humour. So he turned into St James’s Park, and -walked on and on, with his mind full of Con and Alma, past the Palace -and the Duke’s statue, and found himself in Hyde Park, where the London -Scottish were drilling and manœuvering with a huge crowd looking on. - -That made him think of Ray, and he wondered briefly where those two had -got to. If Ray had been at home, as he ought to have been, he would -have been among these stalwart kilties who looked fine and fit for -anything. As soon as he got home he would take his place of course. And -young Noel and Gregor MacLean,--he had heard that very day that reserve -battalions were to be raised pretty generally. So they would be in it -too. And that was all right. Duty called, and it was the part of the -young to bear the burden and heat of this desperate life-struggle to -the death. - -But his heart gave a twinge, all the same, at the possibilities. Con -was possibly gone. Suppose these others went too! It would leave a -dreadful gap in their homes, and wounds in their hearts that would -never heal. This was what war meant. God help them all! - -He watched the brave swing of the boys in hodden gray for a time with -approving eye, till they fell out to munch exiguous lunches on the -grass, which reminded him that he was hungry himself, and he went off -to feed thoughtfully all by himself at a quiet little restaurant in -Jermyn Street. - -Alma must be told at once. Sudden sight of the ominous news in the list -when it was published would be very trying for her. He could break it -gently and put a better face on it than, to his own mind, it actually -bore. And then he must break it also to Mrs Dare and she would tell her -husband and the others. - -But he nodded his head gravely over the whole matter as he ate, and -was full of bitterness and wrath as those stories he had been hearing -of ghastly brutalities perpetrated by the Germans even on the wounded -came surging up in his memory. He cursed them heartily, and prayed High -Heaven to requite them in full for all. - -But a couple of daintily-grilled cutlets, with crisp curly wafers of -chip potatoes, and a nut of real old Stilton, and a pint of Burgundy, -and a good cigar, induced a more hopeful state of mind. - -There were black sheep in every army of course. With all our care we -had never been able to eliminate them entirely from our own. And war -was a terrible loosener of the passions. But a victorious army was -perhaps less likely to indulge in vicious devilry than a beaten one. -At least one might hope so. Unless, indeed, the Germans had all gone -Berserk mad, as some were saying. - -Con, busy with his wounded, had probably had to be left behind in -the hurried retreat,--how hurried only those in the know really -comprehended as yet. He was a non-combatant and there could be no -possible reason for maltreating him. He was probably safe and sound in -Germany by this time.... If only one had not heard all those devilish -stories!... Even women and children! ... and the wounded!... God hold -them to account for it all! - -By the time his taxi set him down at the big gate of St Barnabas’s, he -was fairly himself again. He rang the bell and requested audience of -the Matron. - -“Bad news?” she asked, with an anxious look, as she shook hands with -him. - -“Might be worse--perhaps. He’s in the list as ‘missing.’ And that -may mean anything or not so much. I thought I’d better let her know -beforehand. The list will be out in a day or two and....” - -“I’ll send for her,” and she rang the bell and gave the order, -supplementing it after a second’s hesitation with, “Tell Nurse Luard -that her uncle has called to see her.” - -“It will prepare her for possible ill-news,” she said, “and she will -have time to pull herself together.” - -“Yes,--thank you! I am going to assume that it is not really very bad -news, though to tell you the truth----” - -“It leaves a loophole for hope, of course. But the Germans seem -behaving very badly----” - -“Damnably,” jerked the Colonel. - -“--If all the stories we hear are true.” - -“Must be some fire for all the smoke that’s about,” and then Alma came -hastily in, her face white and set, her eyes painful in their anxious -craving. - -“Is he dead?” she asked quickly, and the Matron slipped quietly out. - -“No, no, my dear!” said Uncle Tony, gripping her trembling hand firmly. -“Nor, so far as we know, even wounded. But in the list I have just -happened to see up yonder, his name is among the missing. And I did not -want you to come on it suddenly in the paper, and think it worse than -it is.” - -“Thank God!” she said quietly, with a sigh of relief, and drew her hand -across her eyes as though wiping away a ghastly vision. “That is all -you know?” she asked with a searching look. And if the Colonel had been -breaking worse news by gentle steps he would have had a very bad time. - -“That is all that is known by anyone, my dear. As soon as we hear more -you shall know it. It may be that he will be safer as a prisoner, -wherever he is, than if he were in the thick of it.” - -“He would sooner be in the thick of it,” she said, with a decided shake -of the head. “He will be terribly put out at being shelved so soon. I -have put down my name for the next draft. I was hoping we might perhaps -come across one another.” - -“One hundred to one against it, I should say. There will be so many -hospitals and you might be sent anywhere.” - -“I’d have felt nearer him anyway. But if he’s.... Where would they be -likely to send him?” - -“Away into some remote part of Germany, most likely. You think you’ll -go? If any further news comes you would get it quicker here than out -there.” - -“They are needing all the help they can get. I think it is my duty to -go, Uncle.” - -“Very well, my dear. Go, and God bless you! And bring you back safe to -us. We shall miss you all. Noel and young MacLean will be in the London -Scottish to-morrow, I expect. And Ray----” - -“Any news of those two?” - -“Not a word. I’m expecting a telegram any minute from Southampton or -Folkestone or Newhaven, saying they’ve just got across and will be -up in a couple of hours. And as soon as Ray gets back he’ll join his -battalion of course. We’ll have no one left but the two girls.” - -“They’ll keep you lively.” - -“We shall miss you all. But it wouldn’t be in any of our thoughts to -stand between any of you and what seems to you your duty.” - -“Things are not going well with us from all accounts. Are they really -as bad as some of the papers seem to make out?” - -“They have been too strong for us so far. They’ve simply rolled us back -by weight of numbers. But they haven’t rolled over us, and their losses -must have been terrible. I have great faith in French and Kitchener. -Safe men both. And the Frenchman, Joffre, seems a good steady sort -too. No froth about him and France believes in him. The tide will turn, -you’ll see.” - -And presently he took his leave, bidding her keep her heart up and -promising to send her instantly any further news he could get of Con. -And then he went on home to break it gently to Con’s mother also. - - - - -XVI - - -As the Colonel marched up the platform in search of a suitable seat in -the Willstead train, he spied his niece, Victoria, sitting in a corner, -knitting--though not with the practised ease of the born knitter--for -dear life, regardless of observation, and obviously full of thought. - -“Hello, Uncle Tony!”--as he sat down beside her. “What’s the latest -from Head-Quarters? I’ve been up at a meeting of the Committee that is -to look after Out-of-Work Girls. We’re going to start them all knitting -and sewing for the men at the front both on land and sea.” - -“Capital! And you’re by way of setting them an example.” - -“I was just thinking some things out, and Auntie Mitt and Mrs Dare are -quite right----” - -“Of course they are.” - -“You can think a great deal better when your hands are employed.” - -“Personally, I----” - -“Oh--you’re only a man. You know nothing about it. Any news?” - -“Yes. I’ve just been to see Alma,”--she stopped knitting and eyed him -sharply,--“Con’s name is in the list of missing--” she gave a sigh -of relief and went on knitting furiously,--“It may be no more than -that,--prisoner of war in Germany----” - -“They’re treating prisoners and wounded abominably,” she said -severely,--to hide the anxiety that was in her. - -“There have been such cases reported. Let us hope they are the natural -exaggerations of war. Anyway, till we hear more we can hope for the -best, and to his people we must keep hopeful faces. His mother will -naturally fear the worst. Do all you can to keep her spirits up and -make no more of it than the facts warrant.” - -“I’ll do my best. But ... I’ll not be satisfied he’s all right till we -hear from himself. How long will it be--if he is all right?” - -“It may be weeks, my dear. Things are in something of a mess over -there, you see. Everything has gone so quickly. One hardly has time -to breathe, and the Germans are too busy driving on to Paris to spare -time for such little details as that. Anyway he’s not among the dead or -wounded--not officially so far----” - -“It might mean either. We’re falling back. Many of our dead and wounded -must get left behind. I wish I could go out and help.” - -“Alma’s going,--at least she’s put down her name. But I hope she’ll -think better of it. She’ll get news quicker here than out there. But -you could do nothing without training, you know.” - -“To be sitting on Committees and talking,--and knitting, when our poor -fellows are bleeding to death out there!” she said bitterly. “Why on -earth didn’t you insist on me learning nursing too? I could wash their -hands and faces anyway.” - -“You’ll find plenty to do at home, my dear. Only the fully qualified -are any use out there. Presently,--ay already,--there are widows and -orphans to look after, and your out-of-work girls, and the wives and -children who are not yet widows and orphans but may be any day. Plenty -to do at home for all of us. But, for the moment, we’ve got to quiet -Mrs Dare’s fears for Con.” - -“It would be too awful if--if the worst had come to him,” she said, -with a glistening in the eyes. - -“It would be very sad for us all. But for him--my dear, a man can do -no better than die at his post. If it should be so, be sure he died -doing his duty. But we’re not to think of him as gone. Con’s one of the -finest boys I know, and, please God, he’s alive and well and will come -back to us.” - -Mrs Dare and Honor had just suspended work and were sitting down to tea -when they were shown in, and Mrs Dare rang for additional supplies as -soon as she had greeted them. - -“Well, Colonel? Any new news?” she asked cheerfully. - -“Yes,--I came on purpose to tell you. I have just been to see Alma.” - -They both sat up at attention and eyed him anxiously, and he hurried -on, “It is disquieting, but not necessarily more than that. Con’s name -is in the list of ‘missing.’ That means he has been captured and so may -be out of further danger till the end of the war.” - -“Thank God, it is no worse!” said Mrs Dare, with a sigh of relief. And -then, as her mind travelled quickly the possibilities, with a downward -tendency natural under the circumstances, “Can we be sure it is no -worse?” - -“If he were known to be dead or wounded, it would be so reported. -‘Missing’ leaves us every ground for hope, Mrs Mother. And it is our -bounden duty to hope for the best. And we will. A great many of our -R.A.M.C.’s were captured at the same time. The retirement was very -hurried, you see. They would be busy with their wounded. Probably they -would not leave them. The Germans swept on, and there they were--behind -the lines--prisoners.” - -“They have been behaving very brutally,” said Mrs Dare depressedly. - -“In cases--where they will probably claim to be justified, and even -they are probably much exaggerated. Is it any good treading the stony -ways before we actually come to them? There may be more than enough for -us before we’re through.” - -“You are right, my friend. I’m afraid I’m sadly lacking in faith. One -gets somewhat disjangled with thinking overmuch about things.” - -“Mustn’t think down,” said the Colonel, shaking his finger reprovingly -at her. “Think up! Half the ill things we fear never come to pass. -Isn’t that your experience now?” - -“It is. But the times are out of joint, and----” - -“And it’s our business to put them in again, and we’re going to do it.” - -“We’re still falling back, I suppose,” she said, uncheerfully, and he -knew she was wondering if there would be any hope of news of Con if a -change should come in that respect. - -“Still retiring on Paris, and doing it uncommonly well too,” he said, -very much more cheerfully than he actually felt. - -For the black Sunday of Mons still lay heavy on him, and he knew -better than any of them the certain cost of those terrible rear-guard -actions--from Cambrai-le Cateau to the Somme--Oise--Meuse, to -Seine--Oise--Meuse, to Seine--Marne--Meuse, and he dreaded the thought -of the tardy lists which would be hard to compile and harder still to -read. - -“You’ll see we’ll find the ground we’re looking for soon,” he said -stoutly. “Then we’ll right about face and maybe give them the lesson -they’re spoiling for. They are suffering terribly, as it is, but there -seems no end to them. But, anyhow, Con will be all right in Germany by -this time, and truly I don’t think we need worry about him unduly.” - -“I’ll try not to, but it is not easy,--hearing the things one does.” - -“If duty were easy it would lose half its virtue,”--and then the door -flew open and Noel and Gregor MacLean stood in the opening, with their -hands to their foreheads in most punctilious salute and broad grins of -delight on their heated faces. - -“London Scottish!” they said in unison. - -“You’re in?” cried the girls, jumping up. - -“For King and Country! At your service,” and they broke off and -demanded tea,--much tea and all the cakes that were going. - -The girls flew round ministeringly and buzzed about them full of -questions and congratulations. - -“And how soon do you get to work?” asked the Colonel. - -“Medical inspection 9 a.m. to-morrow morning. But we’re as fit as -fiddles, so that’s all right.” - -“And when will you get your kilts?” asked Honor. - -“A-a-a-a-a-ah!” said Noel. “Now you’re asking.” - -“Echo answers ‘When?’” said Gregor. “From all accounts it may be -months.” - -“O-o-o-oh!” remonstratively from the girls. - -“But we want to see how you’ll look in them,” said Honor. - -“You go right up to Head-Quarters, my child, and put it to them -straight, and I shouldn’t be a bit surprised if we got them by mid-day -Monday,” said Noel. - -“‘The kilt is but the guinea stamp, the man’s the gowd for a’ that,’” -said Gregor with a grin, and a reddening under his tan at so unusual an -outburst and an approving glance from Honor. - -“Well, it’s been worth waiting for,” said the Colonel. - -“I should say so. We’d sooner be full privates in the London Scottish -than potty little lieutenants in anything else, wouldn’t we, Greg, my -boy?” - -“Rather!” - -“Do you know Con is missing?” said Honor. - -“No?” unbelievingly from both of the boys. “Missing?”--and they stood -staring from one to another with such startled looks that the Colonel -thought well to interject a bluff, “He’s probably tucked safely away in -some remote corner of Germany by this time. But we shall hear in due -course,”--and he accompanied it with so straight and meaning a look at -the boys that they understood, and fell in with his intention. - -“Poor old Con! How mad he’ll be to be out of it,” said Noel hastily. -“Say, Greg, my boy, we’ve got to get out there as quick as ever we can. -What a joke if we came across him--er--languishing in captivity and -were the means of setting him free.” - -“Are the lists out then, sir?” asked Gregor. - -“Not yet, my boy. I was up at Head-Quarters and they’re compiling them -as fast as they can. Pretty heavy, I’m afraid.” - -“Sure to be, sir. There’s been some mighty tough work out there.” - -“The German lists will be ten times as heavy. That’s one consolation,” -said Noel. - -“No amount of German losses will compensate one mother for the loss of -her son,” said Mrs Dare soberly. “My heart is sore for all those German -mothers too. It is terrible waste. And all so unnecessary too.” - -“Always bear in mind, Mrs Mother, that we did not want it,” said the -Colonel. “It was forced upon us, and we are fighting for freedom and -the rights of the smaller peoples. It is an honour to fight in such a -cause. It would be an honour to die for it.” - -“Hear, hear!” said Noel. - -But when the Colonel took his leave, and the two boys lit their pipes -and strolled along with him, Noel broke out impetuously, “Is there -any more behind, sir, that you haven’t told us? ‘Missing’ may mean -anything.” - -“That is absolutely all that is known as yet, my boy. It may, as you -say, mean anything. But until more is known we have every right to hope -for the best. And for that reason I want you to take the brighter side -of the possibility and do your best not to let your mother dwell on the -other side. You understand?” - -“I understand, sir,” said Noel, very soberly.... “It would be awful -if--if the worst had happened to him. Does Alma know?” - -“I went and told her at once and minimised it as much as possible. But -I’ve very little doubt they all understand what it may mean just as -well as we do.” - -“They’re behaving like perfect devils over there, from all accounts,” -said Gregor. “I can’t understand it. I’ve known heaps of Germans, as -nice folks as you’d wish to meet. And now--devils unloosed, and up to -every dirty underhand trick imaginable. What do you make of it, sir?” - -“War is a terrible unloosener of the worst that is in man, and there -are black sheep in every army. And I’ve no doubt there’s a great deal -of exaggeration in the stories we hear.” - -“I’d like to stamp the whole darned lot out of existence like so many -black beetles,” said Noel hotly. - -“I’m afraid they’ll take a lot of stamping out,” said the Colonel, as -he turned and went through his own gate. - -“By--Jing, Greg, I don’t like it one little bit!” said Noel, as they -linked arms and went on down the road to tell their own good news to -Mrs MacLean. - -“It may be as bad as we can’t help fearing. But, as the Colonel says, -it may not, and it’s cheerfuller to look on the bright side. I can’t -imagine Con being killed.” - -“Neither can I, but they say we’ve lost about fifteen thousand already, -and when you think of that it doesn’t take much more thinking to think -he may be one of them.” - -“That’s not all killed, man. It’s everything.” - -“I know, but it’s been beastly hot work, and ... dash it, Greg, you -know what I’m thinking of. They say they’re sparing none and making a -dead set at the Red Cross men.” - -And Gregor nodded gloomily. - -“We’ll say nothing to my mother about it at present,” he said. “Maybe -better word’ll come in a day or two, and it’s no good fashin’ her -unduly. She’ll be glad we’ve got in all right, because she knows we’ve -been wanting it so much, but she’ll feel it, you know, when we have to -go.” - -“That’ll not be for a good while yet. And anyway we’re doing our duty -to our country.” - -But this news about Con distinctly sobered their exuberance, and Mrs -MacLean, as she congratulated them on the attainment of their wishes, -thought what a fine sensible pair they were, and what a change the -prospect of service was making in them already. - -She was well over middle age, white-haired, and had the kindliest face -and sweetest soft Scotch voice Noel knew, outside his own family. -Gregor was her only child and her heart was wrapped up in him. - -“I’m glad you’re going to wear the kilt,” she said gently. “When will -you be getting them, do you think?” - -“Oh, not for a while yet, I expect. First Battalion want everything -they can get, you see. We’re only in the nursery yet.” - -“You’ll find it queer at first, but you’ll soon get used to the bare -knees,” she smiled, to Noel. - -“It’s no worse than footer, you know. By Jove, Greg, my boy, we’ll -Condy them a bit to subdue their natural shiny whiteness. Then they -won’t startle people as we pass.” - -“All right. But we may as well wait till we get there,--unless you want -to begin training them right away in the way they should go.” - -“And when do you start work?” - -“Medical exam to-morrow morning, and then as soon as the top-knutties -can lick themselves into shape.” - -And so they chattered on, very full of themselves and their new -importance, and Mrs MacLean rejoiced in them,--but hoped fervently, -nevertheless, that the war would be over before they would have to do -any actual fighting. - - - - -XVII - - -In the Post Office at Montreux, Ray and Lois, with startled looks, -faced the fact that only a modest five pounds stood between them and -poverty in a land which esteemed its visitors according to the size of -their purses. - -The quietly portentous statement of the young man behind the glass -screen at the Post Office, as to the unlikelihood of their telegram -ever reaching its destination, was well calculated to take away their -breath. It left them floundering like incapable swimmers washed -suddenly out of their depth. - -Lois, having infinite faith in Ray, was the first to recover herself -with a glimmer of amusement. - -“We’ll manage somehow,” she said. “It’s all part of the adventure.” - -Ray had had experience of shortage in foreign lands and knew how -small was the sympathy it evoked. But it was assuredly not for him -to emphasise the sorriness of their plight, which, he kept saying to -himself, was all due to his own idiocy in losing his purse. - -“Seems to me a cup of tea is indicated,” he said. “Perhaps it will -stimulate our jaded brains to see the way out,” and he led her to the -little tea-shop near the Kursaal. - -They had it to themselves at the moment, and Mademoiselle in charge -welcomed them with smiles as possible harbingers of a revival of -business. - -“Iff you please,--tea?” she asked, proud of her accomplishment. - -“A good pot of tea and some of those cakes. How well you speak -English!” said Ray. - -“We haf many English, you see, and I wass in Bhry-tonn for one year. -Yes, sank you, saire.” - -“Perhaps she could recommend us to some cheap pension,” suggested -Lois, as Mademoiselle tinkled among the tea-cups behind the screen. -“She looks a sensible kind of girl and we can make her understand the -position.” - -“Good idea!”--and when she came back with the tea and arranged it -before them with an ingratiating, “Iff you please,”--he asked, “I -wonder if you know of any pension, mademoiselle, where they take in -stranded foreigners for nothing a day and feed them well?” - -But that was altogether too cryptic for her. - -“Please?” she asked, with a puzzled smile, scenting a joke but not -fathoming it. - -“We want to find a very cheap pension,” explained Lois. “We are on our -way home to England but have had the misfortune to lose our purse up -there on the Rhone Glacier. And at the Post Office they tell us we may -not be able to get any money sent from England for some time, because -of the war.” - -“Ah--zis horreeble war! It is ruining us all. But yess, madame, I know -a pension which is cheap. Pension Estèphe, opposite the Gare. It is not -everything, but it is clean and it is honest, and it is cheap. I have -myself stopped there once.” - -“Thank you. That is just what we want. We have telegraphed for more -money, you see, but they cannot be sure it will ever get there, and we -can’t tell when we can get away.” - -“Ach! It is terreeble. There are many caught like that. Zis horreeble -war! It will ruin everybody, yess!” - -“What’s the latest news about the war?” asked Ray. - -“Mais, monsieur, we get little news. They are fighting all the -time--oh, terreebly. But we do not know much about it. I do hope it -will not come here. You do not think it will, monsieur?” - -“We’ll hope not, ma’m’selle. But if it suited the Germans to come I’ve -no doubt they would, in spite of you.” - -“Ach, I do not like the Germans. No!” - -“The feeling seems general. Well, we’ll go along presently and look at -the Pension Estèphe, and if we like it we shall come in and see you -again, ma’m’selle.” - -“Iff you please, saire!” - -Madame of the Pension Estèphe eyed them somewhat doubtfully at first. -They were above her usual class of customer, and it took considerable -explanation to make her understand why they wanted to stop with her, -the exact relationship in which they at present stood to one another, -and, more especially why they had no luggage but their rucksacs. - -However, by dint of much talk, they came at last to terms. For a room -each, and their meals, she would charge them seven francs per day for -the two. If they got married and occupied only one room it would be a -franc less. And she providently demanded a deposit of ten francs and -that they should pay their bill each day. - -“For,” said she, without any beating about the bush, “you have no -luggage, you see, and you might walk away and leave me nothing but your -rucksacs which do not contain much.” - -Their rooms were alongside one another and their appointments were -plain to the point of exiguity, but they were clean and the beds looked -comfortable enough. - -“From the mere point of economy it’s obvious we must get married at -once,” laughed Ray, and Lois blushed but raised no objection. - -“It’ll have to be a pauper’s wedding,” he ran on, “And we’ll have -a wedding-tea at Ma’m’selle’s shop and blow out one franc each on -it. I wonder what it will cost to get married? If it’s more than we -save on the room in, say, a fortnight, we can’t do it,”--at which -Lois laughed enjoyably.--“There used to be a jolly old Scotch parson -here. We’ll look him up and put the case before him. Perhaps, in the -circumstances, he’ll do it for nothing--or at all events, give us -credit till we reach home.” - -And, presently, they went along to the little church in the rue de la -Gare and got the minister’s address and went along to his house, but -they found that he was away on holiday and so they had to deal with his -locum. - -He proved very pleasant and amiable, however, and when the whole matter -had been explained to him he undertook to marry them as soon as they -chose and free of charge. - -“Then to-morrow, please,” said Ray. “You see we save a franc a day by -getting married, and when you’ve only got five pounds altogether it’s -something.” - -“If you get no reply to your telegram, you must see the Vice-Consul. -He’s Swiss, but a good chap. Some provision is to be made, I believe, -for our stranded fellow-countrymen. There are a great many here in much -the same position, and more coming in every day. It’s making a lot of -trouble, this wretched war.” - -“It’ll make a lot more before it’s finished, I’m afraid. If I were home -I’d probably be in it myself--I’m in the London Scottish, you see,----” - -“Ah?--You’re a kiltie, are you?” with a sparkle in the eye. - -“Been one four years, and I expect every man we can scrape will be -needed before we’re through. What are folks here thinking about it all, -sir?” - -“Not over well for us, I’m afraid,”--with a gloomy shake of the head. -“The Germans are not liked here, as you may have found----” - -“We haven’t met one single person that has a good word to say for any -one of them.” - -“Exactly! Their bumptiousness and lack of manners make them a byword. -But all the same they are believed to be overwhelmingly strong and -wonderfully organised. I should describe the general feeling as a fear -that Germany may win. In which case it will be a bad thing for us here. -We have one powerful factor in our favour, however.” - -“And what is that, sir?” - -“We’re in the right this time. We haven’t always been, but this time we -certainly are. And righteousness tells in the long run.” - -“I hope it will. I can’t imagine England knocking under to Germany. -It’s unthinkable.” - -“The Right will win.... Meanwhile they are hammering away at poor -little Belgium because she would not allow them free passage to Paris. -And she’s doing magnificently----” - -“Belgium! Think of it! I’d no idea she had it in her. One has come to -associate Belgium so with Congo atrocities and purely material things -that anything heroic in her surprises one.” - -“Heroic is the word. She’s holding the fort while Britain and France -and Russia get ready. It may be that she is saving Europe from -Pan-Germanism.” - -“Splendid! I take off my hat to her. Good thing old Leopold’s not in -the saddle! The new man must be a good sort.” - -“He must be.... Then to-morrow, Mr. Luard. Shall we say at eleven? And -I hope, my dear,”--to Lois,--“it will make for your happiness.” - -“Oh, it will,” she assured him. “And it is very very good of you.” - -When Ray and Lois came down to their dinner-supper, that first -night, in the common-room of their unpretentious pension, they found -a numerous company already busily at work, and were somewhat taken -aback by their looks,--burly, moustached and bearded men in blouses -and dungarees, with an odour and look of trains and engines about -them;--loud of voice, disputatious indeed, and oblivious of manners. - -Lois shrank a little at sight and sound of them. But their -hostess directed them to a small table apart, covered with a -red-and-white-check cover, over which she spread a table cloth and even -provided them with napkins. For seats they had high stools without -backs. “It feels like a music-lesson,” whispered Lois,--and--“I hope -it will be more satisfying,” murmured Ray. “I’m hungry,” and watched -the black-a-vises critically out of the corners of his eyes. They toned -down for a moment when the strangers entered, and passed remarks sotto -voce between themselves, but in a minute or two were in full blast -again. - -“They look like brigands,” murmured Lois. “They won’t murder us in our -beds, will they?” - -“The fact of our being here will prove that we’re not worth it, I -should say.” - -“I shall barricade my door all the same ... if I can. There’s not -overmuch to barricade with.” - -“They’re probably quite decent fellows,--railway-men from the look of -them, and they’re generally a good sort.” - -And they proved entirely so and never gave them any trouble whatever, -beyond the noise of their arguments, which was at all times tremendous -and more than once looked like ending in blows. - -Most of them drifted back to work when their meal was over. With -the two or three who remained over their cigarettes, Ray got into -conversation on the war and picked up some interesting bits of -information. - -Some of them had just, in the course of their work, come through -from Italy, and the thing that was exercising them all at the moment -was--what was Italy going to do? If she came in against France their -opinion was that Germany would win. If Italy maintained neutrality, -as some of them insisted was likely from what they saw and heard down -there, then they thought the other side might have a chance, but it -would be no easy job. They, also, were mightily impressed with the -idea of Germany’s strength and preparedness. But they liked her no -better than anyone else. Most of their Italian fellows had already been -recalled to the colours. - -“It’ll be a bad day for the world if she wins,” said Ray. - -And, “You’re right, monsieur, without a doubt,” was their unanimous -verdict. - -Lois duly barricaded her door with her alpenstock and only chair, but -no murderous attempt was made on her, and she laughed at herself in the -morning, and felt like apologising to the noisy, good-humoured crew. - -Promptly at eleven o’clock, too joyous of heart to let themselves be -troubled by their outward shabbiness, they walked into the little dark -gray church on the road above the station and were quietly married, -with the delightful assistance of the pastor’s wife, who was immensely -interested in their little romance. And afterwards he insisted on the -newly-married pair joining them at their mid-day meal. - -“It will be a very modest wedding-feast,” he said. “But such as it -is----” - -“We can’t afford to refuse such a noble offer,” laughed Ray. “We were -going to celebrate the great occasion by spending a whole franc each at -the tea-shop near the Kursaal. We save two francs and enjoy your good -company. It’s great, and we are very much obliged to you.” - -“You would do as much for us if ever the occasion offered.” - -“Just give us the chance, sir, and you’ll see.” - -Next day the kindly Scot accompanied him on a visit to the Vice-Consul, -whom they found already being worried and badgered into desperation by -the clamorous demands of their stranded fellow-countrymen and women, -especially the latter. For every lady in distress seemed to think her -own special plight the extremest limit in that direction, and each one -claimed the individual attention of her country’s representative and -required him to send her home instantly, bag and baggage, and to ensure -her safe arrival there. - -It was obviously something of a relief to him to meet a man whose -requirements were definite and modest and his methods business-like. - -Ray briefly stated his case and asked if he could do anything towards -getting a telegram through for him. - -“My uncle, Sir Anthony Luard, will send me money instantly when he -learns of our plight,--that is, if it is possible to do so,” he said. -“What do you think of the prospects?” - -“At the moment--very doubtful. Later on things will settle down -somewhat no doubt. I am trying to get through by way of the south. -France and Germany are quite out of the question. What are your -immediate needs, Mr Luard?” - -“Very small. We are cutting our coat according to the cloth we have. -Six francs a day pays our board and lodging,”--at which the Consul -permitted himself a brief smile. “But we had to walk all the way from -Innsbruck, you see, so we sent all our baggage to Meran with a Mr -Lockhart, the man who writes about Tirol,”--the consul nodded--“And we -really must buy some few things to go on with. Could I possibly draw on -Sir Anthony through you for a small sum?” - -“We’ll manage it somehow. You see how I’m situated,”--with a wave of -the hand towards the adjoining room full of clamorous applicants. “As -far as I can I must do something for everybody. If I find you fifty -francs a week at present, how will that do?” - -“Splendidly, and I’m ever so grateful to you. I’ve had visions of us -sleeping on a seat on the quai and eating grass.” - -“We’ll hope it will not come to that for any of you,” smiled the -consul. “If the amount grows large enough to make a small draft I will -get you to sign one. But I am hoping that some arrangement will be -made before long for getting you all home through mid-France. All the -fighting is likely to be on the frontiers for some time to come, I -should say.” - -“And then in Germany we will hope.” - -“Germany is very strong,” said the Vice-Consul cautiously. “One can’t -foresee what may happen.” - -And so their way was to that extent smoothed for them. Board and -lodging were at all events assured, and if they were not everything -that could be desired they might have been much worse, though truly -they could not have been much cheaper. The food, if a little rough, -was well-cooked and sufficient, and Monsieur and Madame of the Estèphe -and their four comely daughters grew more and more friendly under -the influence of prompt and regular payments, and did all they could -for their comfort. And Ray and Lois testified their gratitude to -Mademoiselle of the tea-shop by having a festive cup and a chat with -her every day when their rambles had not led them too far afield. - -Walking, since it cost nothing, was their one diversion. Fortunately -they were both in good condition, and in spite of the heat they enjoyed -their tramps immensely. Madame of the Pension met their wishes and -provided them with portable lunches, which, if somewhat monotonous in -their constitution, were undoubtedly satisfying, and she generally -managed to amplify their evening meal to their entire contentment, -and indeed showed herself not a little proud of the distinction such -high-class guests conferred upon her establishment. - -Their chief lack was news. English papers were beyond their pocket and -almost unattainable, and the local ones contained but very one-sided -and garbled statements of what was going on at the various fronts. -Cook’s offices were closed, so no news could be got there. The ‘Feuille -d’Avis’ was indeed stuck up each day in the office-window in the -Market-Place, and they went along every morning and read it for what it -was worth. But it was only by applying to their friend the consul that -they could get any actual facts, and those not of the most recent nor -of the most vital. And he was so terribly overworked that they disliked -troubling him. - -At times, indeed, in sheer self-defence he locked his door and stuck -up a notice saying that he was broken down and could see no one. Then -the clamorous throng gnashed its teeth and leaned its elbows on his -bell-push, and Lois and Ray were so ashamed of their fellows that they -preferred getting along as best they could without news sooner than -harass him further. - -They managed to keep brooding at bay very enjoyably by exploring -all their surroundings,--from Chillon--they could not afford to go -inside,--to Vevey;--to the Rochers-de-Naye by Veytaux and Recourbes; -and up to Les Avants and the Chauderon Gorge. Anywhere and everywhere -attainable to pedestrians they went, with unbounded energy and immense -satisfaction, and savoured the joy of life to the very fullest. - -The restful beauty of the shimmering blue lake, and the uplifting glory -of the peaks of the Valais and Vaudois and Savoy, viewed as they were -through the glamour of their fulfilled love, wrought themselves into -the very texture of their lives. - -To Lois it was a time of rare enchantment, heightened and -intensified--like the shining of stars in a blue-black sky--by the grim -horror of the war-clouds beyond. It might all come to an end any day. -The future might have in it unthinkable sorrows. But this at least was -theirs, and the joyous memory of it would never fail them. - -“Ray! I am so glad it has all happened just so;--as far as we are -concerned, I mean. These days are my jewels. They will shine for me -always and always, and I can never lose them. Oh I am glad, glad, glad -to have lived them!” - -“And what do you think I am, dear? Do you think there ever were two -happier people on this earth?” - -“Never! It is not possible.” - -They were perched in a little eyrie, high up the mountain-side near -Crêt d’y Bau, shoulder to shoulder for the joyful feeling of one -another, gazing out over the lake towards Geneva, eating the little -wild raspberries of inexpressibly delicious flavour which they had -gathered as they climbed. - -“Whatever may come to us now we can bear it because we have had -all this,” she sighed contentedly. And asked presently, in a lower -key,--“Do you think it is possible for people to be too happy, Ray? ... -that we shall have to pay for it later on?” - -“No, my dear, I don’t. Why should we? We were meant to be happy. It’s -only folly or wickedness--either in ourselves or other people--that -brings unhappiness ...”--and, stumbling along after the thread of his -thought,--“and, it seems to me that if we keep ourselves up to the -pitch of deserving happiness, whatever happens outside us cannot take -it from us. Troubles may come. Not many folks get through life without -them, and they don’t turn out the best folks as a rule. But if we -remain to one another what we are now, we shall be proof against them -all and they won’t hurt us.... In other words, my child, it is not -outward circumstance that counts, but our own inner feelings.” - -“Yes! I’m feeling all that, and more and more every day.... If this -horrid war goes on do you think you will really be called up? I thought -the London Scottish and the rest were only for home-defence.” - -“I wish to goodness we knew just how things stand. If it’s going to be -a life-and-death struggle England must do her proper share. Compared -with the armies over here ours is trifling,--in point of numbers, I -mean. As far as it goes it’s probably better than any of them. But it’s -very very small in comparison with their millions. And numbers tell. -There may be a national call for volunteers. If it comes you wouldn’t -have me shirk it?” - -“No ... but oh, I wish it might not come,” and she pressed his arm -closer against her heart. - -The Kursaal concerts, costing at the lowest one franc each, were beyond -them of course. So in the soft autumnal evenings they spent most of -their time on the quais outside the gardens, sitting when a seat was -obtainable, wandering along with the rest, leaning over the railings, -with the dark lake stretching from under their feet away into the -infinitude of night. There they could hear the music quite as well as -the wealthier folk inside, and without a doubt enjoyed it more than any -of them. - -The sunsets were wonderful beyond words. The evening star hung like a -jewel in the afterglow and twinkled at itself in the smooth mirror -below. Then the summer lightning played fitfully over the further -hills and set the lake, and the bayonets of the quai-patrol that -guarded them from invasion, shimmering and gleaming, and looked so like -menacing signals that their thoughts turned constantly to the fact that -somewhere over there the world was dreadfully at war. - -When it grew quite dark, parties of sober merry-makers would put off -in small boats, each with its coloured lantern, and ply quietly to and -fro, weaving their trailing reflections into patterns of extraordinary -beauty, till the lake below looked like a great dark blue carpet shot -through and through with wavering tracery of gleaming gold and all the -colours of the rainbow. And it was all undoubtedly very charming and -beautiful, but, to Lois, it was also all most strangely unreal and -evanescent, as though at any moment, at the sound of bell or whistle, -it might all vanish and give place to scenes less tranquil. For -somewhere over there the world was at war and how far it might spread -none could tell. - -So the days ran on, and only now and again when it rained, and trips up -aloft were out of the question, did they ever find them long. - -Their chief lack still was news of what was actually happening over -yonder behind the curtain. And this began to tell on Ray though he did -his best at first to hide it. But Lois saw and understood. - -Away across there in Belgium and the north of France, England might -be feeling already the sore need of every man she could put into the -field. His fellows might already be pressing to the front. And he was -tied here by the leg. - -He did his best not to show how he was feeling it, but there it was, -and his thoughtful silences, and an occasional concentrated pinching of -the brows which she had never seen in him before, told Lois the tale -even before he spoke of it. - -To her he was quiet thoughtfulness itself and the perfection of married -lovers. For deep down in his heart was the knowledge that before very -long the time for parting might come. It would be sore to leave her. -It would wring his heart and hers. But he knew that if duty called she -would not have him stop. He set himself to make sure, and surer still, -that these brief days of married love should hold in their memory no -smallest flaw, and he succeeded to the full. - -He told her all that was in his heart concerning future possibilities, -and they talked it all over quietly, soberly, lovingly, and were the -stronger and richer in their love. - -“Whatever comes, we have had this, and nothing can take it from -us,--and the rest is in God’s hands,”--was the end to which they always -came and the strong rope to which they clung. And their love grew ever -deeper and stronger for this trying of it. - - - - -XVIII - - -“Absolutely nothing further so far,” said the Colonel, standing with -his back to the fire in Mrs Dare’s sitting-room, as she handed him a -cup of tea. “All they can say is that quite a dozen of our R.A.M.C.’s -of various grades have never turned up since Landrecies, and they -believe they were all taken in a bunch. And that seems to me to improve -the chances of Con’s being all safe and sound. We shall hear from him -before long, you’ll see.” - -“It is sore waiting,” said Mrs Dare. - -“So many have not even the chance of doing that. The lists are again -very heavy, I’m sorry to say.” - -“And we are still falling back?” - -“Still retiring, but you’ll see we’ll stop before long,”--and then -there came a ring at the bell, and presently the door opened and there -stood in the doorway a burly figure whom neither of them recognised, -and behind it the concerned face of the maid whose attempt at -announcement had been forestalled. - -The newcomer was tall and broad, and something about his face seemed -familiar to both Mrs Dare and the Colonel, and yet they were sure they -had never set eyes on it before. For it was most decidedly a face -calculated to impress itself on the memory. To Mrs Dare it suggested -the late Emperor of the French, but with more alert and wide-awake -eyes. It made the Colonel think of Victor Emmanuel the First, of Italy. - -“Well, well?” said the stranger, and then they knew him. - -“Good heavens, Rhenius! What are you playing at? You gave me quite -a shock. I took you for the ghost of Victor Emmanuel,” jerked the -Colonel half-angrily. - -“And I thought you were Napoleon III come to life again,” smiled Mrs -Dare, as she poured him out a cup of tea. - -“Ah-ha! So you accorded me promotion on both sides----” - -“If you’d call it promotion?” growled the Colonel. - -“Quite so. Very questionable. I have never greatly admired either of -the gentlemen in question.” - -“And why on earth have you been playing such pranks with your face? -Think it an improvement?” - -“I was in Italy when the troubles broke out,--at Piora, near Airolo. -Before I could get through, France was practically closed to any but -Frenchmen. I wished to get home so I became a Frenchman for the time -being--a Frenchman of the Second Empire, and me voici! But I came to -bring you news.” - -“Of Con?” asked Mrs Dare eagerly. - -“Of Con? No. What is wrong with my good friend Con?” - -“He’s reported missing,” said the Colonel. - -“Missing!”--with a pinch of the lips that jerked up the long moustache. -“I am sorry. But that is better than either killed or wounded. He is at -all events safe from harm.” - -“You really think so, Doctor?” asked Mrs Dare anxiously. - -“Why, of course, my dear madame. As a prisoner of war he will be -well-treated and out of harm’s way.” - -“If one could only be sure of that,” she sighed. - -“What’s your news then?” asked the Colonel brusquely, not having yet -quite recovered from his umbrage at the Doctor’s facial metamorphosis. - -“Ah, yes--my news.... I came over Furka by way of Hospenthal, and -there, at the Golden Lion, I met two of my young friends whom you know -very well----” - -“Lois and Ray?” and Mrs Dare dropped her knitting and stared up at him -in anxious excitement. - -“Yes--Lois and Ray----” - -“I told you they’d strike down south and get out that way,” said the -Colonel triumphantly. “That’s good. I forgive you your barbarisms, -Doctor,--neat that, eh? And I’ll take another cup of tea on the -strength of it, Mrs Mother, if you please!” - -“And they were quite all right?” asked Mrs Dare. - -“Quite all right, and as happy as young people ought to be. They were -hastening down to Montreux----” - -“And why haven’t they got here?” asked Mrs Dare. - -“Well, you see, it was no easy matter even for me, and I had made -up my mind to get through at any sacrifice,” and he stroked, with a -suggestion of regret, the remnant of the flowing beard that had had to -go. “I made my way across country to St Nazaire and got across from -there. But it was no easy matter, I assure you.--And, besides, they had -plans of their own--great plans. They were hastening to Montreux to get -married----” - -“To get married?” echoed Mrs Dare, while the Colonel greeted the news -with a shout of, “Well done, Ray! Da-ash it, that boy’s got brains in -him. I knew he had good taste,” and he turned and grasped Mrs Dare’s -hands and shook them heartily. - -“But why could they not wait till they got home?” asked Mrs Dare. - -“Well--I think they felt it not quite proper to be wandering about -together like that, you know. And there is no knowing how long they may -be detained out there.” - -“Why didn’t you bring them along with you?” asked the Colonel. - -“I had booked a seat in the diligence to Brigue, and it proved to be -the very last seat--and I fear the last diligence. The driver told me -they would probably stop next day, as all the horses were wanted by -the military at Thun. It may be weeks before you see them, and I’m -afraid there are many others in the same predicament. Ray particularly -asked me to ask you to send him out some more money to Poste Restante, -Montreux. But I’m afraid you’ll have difficulty in doing so.” - -“I’ll see the bank first thing in the morning. They’ll manage it -somehow. And what opinion did you form of things generally over there, -Doctor?” - -“I had small chance of hearing anything. I’ve heard a great deal more -since I reached home.” - -“You were in Italy, you say. Well, what’s Italy going to do? She’s an -important factor in the case.” - -“Undoubtedly!”--with a sagacious nodding of the ponderous head. “A very -important factor.... What she will ultimately decide it is impossible -to say. She is not anxious for war, that is pretty certain. She is -poor, you see, and somewhat exhausted. If she had been going in of -necessity, as a member of the Triplice, she would have declared herself -before this. It depends, I should say, on whether the others can force -her in.” - -“Not a volunteer, eh! And maybe at best an unwilling conscript. I -should say she’d be well advised to keep out of it.” - -“If she can.... Ah, here are the young ladies!”--as Honor and Vic came -in with looks that demanded tea. - -“Goodness!--” gasped Vic. - -“Gracious!--” continued Honor, and they both ended on a most emphatic -“Me!” and stood staring at him with faces full of amazement. - -“The voice is the voice of Jacob but the face is as the face of--who is -it, Vic?” - -“Mephistopheles.... What on earth are you playing at, Doctor?” - -“Playing?” he remonstrated, pulling up the point of his Napoleon and -trying to look down at it with melancholy regret. “Playing, indeed!” - -“I fathom it,” said Vic gleefully. “It’s an omen. Germany’s going to -be beaten so you’ve transformed yourself into the likeness--such as it -is--of Napoléon Trois. Good business!” - -“Napoléon Trois has always been my particular detestation, Miss -Vic-who-ought-to-have-been-Balaclava,”--which was his usual -counter-stroke to her thrust,--“as you very well know. This was imposed -upon me by force of circumstance. I had to get home, you see,--for all -your sakes. And to get home I had to come across France.” - -“And you were afraid of being taken for a German spy! I see.” - -But he had known her since her hair hung down her back and he would not -take offence. - -“I might very well have been taken for a German, anyway, and Germans -are not held in high esteem in France at the moment.” - -“Nor anywhere else in the world except in Germany. And I hope they’ll -be blotted out even there before long. Detestable wretches!” - -“Ta--ta! There speaks hot youth. But it does not trouble me since I -have nothing in common with Germany.” - -“Except your name, and your birth, and your looks,--when they’re normal -that is, mein Herr! They’ll intern you, for certain, at Dorchester, or -Porchester, or wherever it is, and you _will_ have a time.” - -“All that does not concern me, my dear. I am a British subject just as -much as you are.” - -“Not a bit of it, mein Herr! I was born one.” - -“The more credit to me. You couldn’t help yourself. I acquired the -right of my own good free-will.” - -“He has you there, Vic,” said the Colonel, who always found huge -enjoyment in their sparring. “But he has brought us news of Ray and -Lois--Mr and Mrs Ray Luard, I should say----” - -“No!” and the two girls flopped down into chairs simultaneously. - -“Fact,--at least we have every reason to hope so. When the Doctor saw -them--at Hospenthal--they were making their way down to Montreux, with -the expressed intention of getting married as soon as they got there.” - -“Well!... I--am----” - -“‘Hammered!’ as Gregor says,” supplied Honor. “What a pair of -families we are! Vic, my dear, the atmosphere of war is packed with -marriage-germs. We must be careful. I’m sure they’re catching. Mother, -dear, some tea, please. Quick! I feel faint,” and, first carefully -taking off her hat, she subsided gracefully against the back of her -chair. - -“All the same, Nor, it’s rather too bad, you know,” said Vic -resentfully. “That’s two weddings we’ve been done out of. It’s really -anything but fair.” - -“It’s abominably shameful,” said Honor, undergoing a quick revival at -thought of their wrongs. “I don’t believe they’ll have been properly -married out there. It ought to be done over again as soon as they get -home. How do you know it will be all right?” she put it to the Colonel. -“Ten years hence it may come out that they are not really married at -all and there’ll be a dreadful scandal.” - -“I’ll trust Ray to see himself properly married, my dear,” laughed the -Colonel. “Don’t you worry your pretty head about it,” and then with -a touch of concern in his voice, to the Doctor,--“I hope they’ll not -give you any trouble here, Rhenius. Some of the yellow rags are making -something of an outcry against foreigners--enemy foreigners, I mean. -You see, there undoubtedly is an immense amount of espionage going on, -and folks are apt to run to extremes at times and lose all nice sense -of discrimination.” - -The Doctor shrugged his big shoulders. “I was naturalised years -before some of you were born. They will not trouble me,” he said with -confidence. “If they do I’ll come to you for a character, Colonel.” - - - - -XIX - - -In course of time and on the principle that Heaven helps them that -help themselves, the stranded English in Montreux formed a committee -of repatriation, which met in a room placed at their disposal by the -authorities of the Kursaal, and, by dint of much writing and wiring -and hustling, towards the end of the month their arrangements, such as -they were, were, with the assistance of Cooks, who had now returned to -business, satisfactorily completed. - -The penniless were to be sent off first, then the rest by degrees in -inverse ratio to their staying powers. - -Anxious as they were, for some reasons, to get home, Lois, at all -events,--with the knowledge that getting home might well be but -the beginning of sorrows--found herself full of regrets at leaving -Montreux. The little inconveniences of their stay there had been -gloriously impearled with the glamour of their love. They had been -perfectly happy, and perfect happiness comes not often in life nor ever -lasts too long. - -They had taken leave of their friends, and Ray had duly given the -Vice-Consul a draft on Uncle Tony for the money he had advanced them. -Monsieur and Madame and all the four demoiselles of the Pension -Estèphe, and Anna the maid, had all come to the station to see them -off, and were full of regrets at losing them, and now their train was -jogging along towards Lausanne bound for Geneva. - -They had been instructed to take with them provisions for three days, -within which time it was hoped the journey to Paris might--failing -accident--be accomplished. And so they had, with the assistance of -Madame of the Pension, provided themselves with much bread, and butter, -and a tin of tongue, and a cold boiled fowl, and apples and pears and -tomatoes, and cheese, and two bottles, one filled with wine and the -other with cold tea. And they wondered if they would ever get through -such a pile of eatables and felt prepared for a siege. - -Hand-baggage alone was to be taken, and theirs consisted entirely of -their provisions, as everything else they possessed went into the -rucksacs on their backs. Those who attempted to take too much had to -leave the excess in the Consigne at the station, to be forwarded later -if opportunity permitted. - -They had been told to be at the station at 5 a.m. and to form -themselves into parties of eight, which would just fill a compartment, -and as Lois and Ray had made few acquaintances they had some difficulty -in making up their complement. They made hasty quest round, however, -and Lois discovered two little elderly maiden ladies, waiting timidly -in a corner for someone to take them in hand and tell them what to do, -which she immediately did, and they wept gratefully. And Ray picked out -two nice-looking boys of about his own age, who were standing watching -the confusion in aloof amusement,--found they were not engaged, and -secured them on the spot. - -The final two in their carriage were thrust upon them at the last -moment when the authorities found their numbers short. They were two -young men from Lancashire, who did not speak a word of French--or -indeed of anything but broad Lancashire--and they rarely opened their -mouths. They were decent quiet fellows, however, and made no trouble. - -The little ladies had just started on a Swiss trip to which they had -been looking forward for years, and the war had made short work of it. - -“We came to Switzerland once before, when our father was alive. But -since he died--well, we have been keeping a school,”--confided one of -them to Lois,--“and we have just disposed of it----” - -“You see these newer subsidised schools are making things hard for the -private schools,” said the other, as the train jogged along the side -of the lake, still wreathed with swathes of fleecy mist. “And when the -chance offered we were glad to retire.” - -“And we thought it would he so delightful to renew our old memories of -Switzerland. We were at Zermatt----” - -“I was trying to remember where we’d seen you,” said one of the -stranger youths, with just enough of a drawl and intonation to betray a -trans-Atlantic origin. “We were at Zermatt too. We came across to climb -something and they told us Matterhorn was about as good as anything. So -we went to Zermatt and made a start on Matterhorn----” - -“You began at the top,” said Ray. - -“Matterhorn’s not a thing you can begin at the top. But we started from -the Schwarzsee, and that’s 8945 feet up.” - -“8495,” said his brother. - -“And you got on all right?” asked Lois, while the little ladies -regarded them with silent admiration,--men who had actually been up the -Matterhorn, at which they themselves had gazed in fearful rapture from -below! - -“It was all right. We had guides, four of them, very good fellows, and -ropes and axes and all the usual things. And they got us through. The -only thing that happened to us was a stone in one of the couloirs that -came down on my brother’s wrist and smashed his watch, and cut him a -bit.” - -“Had you done any climbing in America?” asked Ray. - -“Nary! Never climbed anything----” - -“’Cept stairs!” said his brother. - -“Plenty stairs, yes, but no mountains to speak of. That’s why we -came--to see how it felt.” - -“And it felt good,” said his brother. - -“Yes, it felt good, and if we could have stopped we’d have climbed some -more. But this flare-up’s knocked everything sky-high. We couldn’t -raise a red cent on our letters of credit, and there we were, stony in -a strange land, and not even able to tell what was the matter, ’cept -when we struck someone that had the good sense to speak English.” - -They were extremely nice fellows, graduates of Harvard, one studying -law in Boston, and the other medicine, and their humorous outlook and -comments on life in general did much to palliate the discomforts of the -journey. - -They had gone in strongly for fruit as provisioning, and had a couple -of melons, a large supply of grapes, apples and pears and nuts, and of -course tomatoes. The little ladies’ ideas had run to sandwiches and -chocolates and a few bananas, all of which they confidently asserted -were extremely nutritious. - -At Geneva they had to change trains for the journey through France. -They were all bundled out into the courtyard outside the station, and -stood there in the broiling sun till soldiers with bayonets separated -them into parties of forty and finally marshalled them to their -carriages. - -These were a decided come-down,--old non-corridors, five-on-a-side, and -some without even racks for their parcels. However, it was all part of -the adventure, and our party, all sticking together, were glad to find -themselves at last securely locked in and really started on the journey -home. - -It was slow business, however, and freighted with discomforts, but they -made as light of these as they possibly could, and did their best to -look upon it all as a joke. - -When, in the course of the night, Lois produced a small spirit lamp -she had lavishly expended two whole francs on, and, after several -times nearly setting them all on fire, managed to produce cups of tea -all round--an operation which took time, since her kettle was of the -smallest and they had only two aluminium folding-cups--they could none -of them find words commensurate with their gratitude. Time, however, -was the one thing they did not lack, and their absorbed interest in -that precarious tea-making, and the attention they had to give to -unexpected conflagrations, and then their exultation and enjoyment over -their cups of hot tea, rejoiced her greatly and fully compensated her -for her prodigal expenditure on the spirit-lamp and kettle. - -Even the new members of their party, a somewhat reserved young -Englishman and his wife, returning dolefully from a short-cut -honeymoon, thawed by degrees under the influence of hot tea at -midnight, and became quite cheerful and friendly, in spite of the fact -that no formal introductions had taken place. - -They were packed pretty tight in their old-fashioned carriage, and -but for the general goodwill the discomforts would have been almost -insupportable. - -They chatted and ate, and ate and chatted, and made tea at intervals, -and now and again dozed with their heads on one another’s shoulders -quite irrespective of persons. The ladies were accorded the corner -seats and the men acted as pillows and buffers between. And so they -jogged slowly along through the night, drawing up now and again with -a succession of clangorous bumps that ran from end to end of the -train and died with lugubrious creakings into startling silence, then -starting again with a jerk that shook them all wide awake. It was as -though they were cautiously feeling their way through the darkness and -unknown dangers ahead. - -Of official stops there were almost none. When one did come, and the -guard announced ‘dix minutes d’arrêt,’ everybody poured out of the -carriages, to fill their water-bottles at the station pump and stretch -their cramped legs gratefully. - -In the very early morning they had a stop of nearly an hour and heard -that it was because a lady had been taken ill. They blessed her -fervently, washed their hands and faces at the pump, and many boldly -produced toothbrushes and did their teeth. And all the time afterwards, -their American boys kept suggesting that Lois, or one of the little -ladies, or the young bride, should go sick and procure them another -such happy release from their cages. - -Everywhere, as they waited in sidings, there were heavy train-loads of -soldiers speeding to the front. They were all obviously in the best -of spirits, eager to get to the long-expected red work and to make an -end of it for good and all. They leaned out of the windows and cheered -the waiting trains, which gave them back cheer for cheer and hearty -God-speeds. - -Their young Englishman, with more zeal than aptitude for foreign -tongues, roused great enthusiasm by leaning as far out as he could get -and shouting at the top of his voice, “Vive la Président!”--which was -invariably greeted with laughter and heartier cheers than ever. And so, -by slow degrees and haltingly, they crept up towards Paris, where one -of Cook’s people met them, and took them round by the Ceinture railway, -and saw them safely off for Dieppe. - - - - -XX - - -Mrs Dare was sitting by the fire in the parlour at Oakdene, knitting -long deep thoughts into a Balaclava helmet. On the other side of the -hearth sat Auntie Mitt, similarly occupied on a body-belt, which, being -more straightforward work, suited her better. Both their faces were -very grave, and they had not spoken a word for close on half an hour. -There was so little to speak about and so much to think about. - -The news from the front was not good. It did not bear discussion. The -Germans were still pressing furiously on towards Paris. Their losses -had been enormous and ours had been terribly heavy though slight in -comparison with theirs. But life seemed the very last thing worth -their consideration. So long as they won the bloody game nothing else -mattered, and they were fouling the game with every tricky manœuvre and -abominable brutality their twisted minds could contrive. - -It was a time indeed for anxious thought on the part of all who had any -stake out there, and Mrs Dare’s heart ached with fears for Con. If he -were still alive he must be somewhere in the hands of these pitiless -savages, and according to the papers they spared none. They even seemed -to go out of their way and beyond human nature in the pursuit of that -gospel of frightfulness which the Kaiser openly preached. - -Her heart had been wrung over Belgium and Northern France. What chance -had any man of coming alive out of such a welter of crashing deaths? -At times her faith in the goodness of God and the ultimate triumph -of Right seemed to her overborne by the high-piled horrors of the -morning’s news. How--could--God--permit--such--doings? - -And when she was in that low state of spiritual health it was always a -comfort to her to hear the Colonel’s cheerful voice at the door, and to -set eyes on his grave but always confident face. - -Her husband was so sorely tried in these days that even she--helpless -and almost hopeless as she felt herself at times--had to play the part -of faithful helpmeet as best she might. - -The moratorium had indeed relieved him of the heaviest of the pressure -for the time being, but his business was practically killed and the -future weighed on him almost beyond bearing. - -To both of them the Colonel played cheerful Providence, and did his -utmost to dissipate their clouds. - -“My dear Mrs Mother,” he would adjure her. “Have we not gone through -just such times before----” - -“Never quite so dark--nor coming so close home to one.” - -“That has been your happy fortune. But to thousands of others they -have come close home in just this same way. Always in the end we pull -through;--ay, even when we’ve had less justification than we have now. -If there’s a righteous God overlooking this matter--and you’re not -going to tell me you doubt it----” - -“No, I’m not. But I’m sometimes sorely put to it when I think of it -all,--the horrors--the hideous----” - -“Don’t think of them. Think of the way our lads are behaving out there. -They’re simply grand. And the way they’re toeing the line here is just -as fine. And the Colonies!--and Ireland! By Gad, ma’am, we’re living in -noble times! And we’ll see grander times yet. We’re--going--to--win! -Tough work first, maybe, but win we shall, as sure as God’s God.” - -And his faith in his country and in the Higher Powers never failed to -cheer her into renewed hope. - -To John Dare he was equally helpful. - -“Cheer up, John,” he would exhort. “There’s a lot of life and work in -you yet----” - -“I feel sometimes as if I’d like to go to sleep and never wake up -again.” - -“I know. I’ve been there, but I’m glad now that I thought better of it -and waked up as usual. Things’ll pull round all right. Darkest hour -before the dawn, you know.” - -“That’s the trouble. It’s all dark and I see no dawn.” - -“It’s there all the same, man. Thousands of other men feeling just -same, but you’ll all come up smiling again in the end.” - -But he was harder to beguile of his morbidity than his wife. And, -indeed, with a carefully-built business crumbled to nothing at a -stroke, and five-and-fifty years behind him, it was not easy to regard -the future with much confidence. It was not to be wondered at that -he was terribly depressed, and at times a little irritable. Life was -touching him on the raw, and he found it hard to bear. - -“Well, we’ll have tea,” said Auntie Mitt, breaking the half-hour’s -silence and ringing the bell. “I hoped Sir Anthony would be in by this -time. Perhaps he will bring us some good news from town.” - -“I’ve almost lost the expectation of hearing good news,” said Mrs Dare. -“It would be a refreshing novelty to hear something cheerful again.” - -“We must never lose hope, my dear. While there’s life,--you know.” - -“That’s just it. I can’t help fearing he’s dead all this time----” - -“Who, my dear? Sir Anthony?” - -“I was thinking of Con. He’s in my thoughts all the time.” - -“Sir Anthony seems to feel certain he will be all right. If--if the -worst had happened, he says, we should certainly have heard before -this.” - -But Mrs Dare shook her head. “I don’t know. This war seems different -from any other war. They do such dreadful things. They seem to respect -nobody.” - -“They are certainly behaving very badly, if one can believe all the -papers say. I sometimes think they exaggerate a little, you know,--make -the worst of things and the best, just as they think it will please -people. The papers are very different from what I remember them.” - -“They have changed a bit in the last seventy years or so, haven’t they, -Auntie Mitt?” said the Colonel, who had come quietly in behind the maid -with the tea-tray. - -“Oh--Sir Anthony! Seventy years! They have changed terribly in the last -twenty years.” - -“Of course they have. When you and I first knew them---- Thanks!” as -she thrust a cup of tea at him. - -“Any good news?” asked Mrs Dare. - -“In the papers--none. Confidentially, I hear that the tide is about to -turn. They’re not to get to Paris anyway.” - -“I’m glad of that. It would have been hateful. They would have crowed -so. And Paris has suffered from them before. What is going to happen?” - -“Oh, having drawn them on, now we’re going to roll them back.” - -“Wouldn’t it have been better to keep them out?” - -“Yes, if we could have done so, but we couldn’t. They were too strong -for us. But we’ve been getting stronger every day and now we’re going -to turn and rend them.” - -“I’m not blood-thirsty by nature, but truly I’ve come to the point of -longing to see them rent in pieces. It is very horrible, I know, but I -can’t help it.” - -“It’s very human, Mrs Mother. We’ll rend ’em in pieces for you all -right, but it’ll take time and some doing.” - -“And terrible loss,” she said with a sigh. - -“No gain without loss, and their losses have been awful. There never -has been anything like it. How long they can stand it, I don’t know.” - -“I’ve given up caring for their losses in thinking of our own. I’m -growing inhuman.” - -“Not a bit! Couldn’t--no matter how hard you tried. Now who’s this, I -wonder. Some of Auntie Mitt’s old tabbies, I expect. I’ll bolt.” - -But the door opened and disclosed the maid’s face all alight with -excitement as she announced with a jerk, “Please, ma’am,--Sir -Anthony,--Mr and Mrs Luard!” and Ray and Lois walked in. - -The Colonel rushed at them with a shout. Mrs Dare jumped up. And Auntie -Mitt almost upset the tea-table into the fire-place. - -“Well, well, well!--Mr and Mrs Luard! My dear,”--as he kissed Lois -heartily,--“This is a great day for us! There,--go to your mother. -She’s been aching for you. Ray, my dear boy, you’re a champion. How -did you get here? Where have you come from? How are you?”--All which -incoherencies testified his feelings better than many set speeches. - -“I suppose you never got the wire I sent from Montreux, sir?” asked Ray. - -“Never got a thing, my boy. But Rhenius got home and told us you were -wanting money and I’ve been doing my best to get some sent out, but so -far it’s been impossible. How did you manage?” - -So they unfolded the idyl of their great adventure over many cups of -tea; each supplementing the other with suddenly remembered intimate -little details, the one taking up the running whenever the other ran -dry, or out of breath, or stood in need of sustenance. - -“We spent the night on the boat,” concluded Lois, “with eight hundred -others. It was an awful pack and we had to sleep anywhere----” - -“She slept on a bench on deck, and I lay under the bench, and every -bone of me’s sore----” - -“So are mine,” said Lois, “and it was none too warm----” - -“Fortunately it didn’t rain, and we managed to get some hot tea early -in the morning which bucked us up a bit. But it’s not an experience I’d -care to repeat--not just that part of it, I mean.” - -“Now tell us all the news,” begged Lois. “We’ve been in the wilderness -for a month and we know practically nothing except that we’re at war. -How’s everybody? And how are things going?” - -All that would obviously take much telling, and Auntie Mitt, foreseeing -a considerably enlarged party for dinner, disappeared quietly to look -after the commissariat. - -The wanderers were mightily astonished at the tale of the last month’s -happenings. They rejoiced at Alma’s marriage, but were greatly -disturbed at Con’s disappearance. Having as yet been told nothing of -the savage brutalities in vogue among the Germans, they were, however, -hopeful that he would turn up again all right in time. - -“It is terrible for Alma, all the same. We must go up and see her, as -soon as possible, Ray.” - -“We’ll go to-morrow, and give her a surprise.” - -A foretouch of future shadows fell on them when they heard of Noel and -Gregor MacLean having joined the London Scottish. - -“What about the First Battalion, sir?” Ray asked at once. - -“Mobilised for Foreign Service, my boy.” - -“Where are they?--Head-Quarters?” - -“Watford.” - -“There’ll be some papers waiting here for me, I suppose.” - -“You’ll find them all in your room.” - -“I must go up to-morrow first thing. Did you tell them why I hadn’t -answered, sir?” - -“Yes, I called at Head-Quarters and saw Colonel Malcolm. He said it -would be all right, and he would keep your place open as long as -possible. They’ll be glad to see you, even if you’re a bit late.” - -“You really feel you must go, Ray?” asked Mrs Dare anxiously, full of -thought for Lois and remembering Con. - -“Yes, mother dear. I must go. We have talked it all out, and Lois feels -as I do about it. It is evident that we’re going to need every man we -can put into the field, and if there are any shirkers they ought to be -shot.” - -“It will be hard to part with him,” said Lois bravely. “But he cannot -stop when all the rest are going.” - -Mrs Dare picked up her knitting and went quietly on with her work. Her -heart was overfull. This monster of War was taking them one by one. -What if none of them ever came back? What terrible gaps it would make -in their lives! God help them all! - -The Colonel’s hand dropped gently on Lois’s and patted it softly in -token of his high approval. - -And presently Ray slipped away to look over his equipment and pack his -kit. To make sure that everything was in order he put on his uniform, -and when he went down to them again it was as First Lieutenant Luard of -G Company of the London Scottish, and very fine and large he looked as -he came striding into the room. - -“I think everything’s all right,” he said. “If anyone sees anything -amissing, kindly mention it.” - -And Lois looked on him with shining eyes and a flush of pride in her -face. But in her heart she was saying, “He is splendid, splendid,--but -suppose it only leads to his death.” - -Such thoughts, however, were for private consumption only, and her face -was all in order as she commented with quiet approval on this detail -and that, and asked in matronly fashion if he was sure all his buttons -were stitched on tight. - -She liked him so much in his fine feathers that he consented to keep -them on. “For,” she said to herself, “to-morrow he will be gone and I -would like to think of him like that.” - -Vic and Honor came in only in time for dinner and could hardly believe -their eyes. They loaded Lois with reproaches for her hole-and-corner -wedding and commented adversely on her German frock, which they advised -her to burn forthwith, or as soon as she could procure something decent -enough to be walked with, and she promised to attend to their wishes in -town in the morning. - -The Colonel had sent word to the Red House for Mr Dare to come over -if he came in, and presently he appeared, so worried-looking and -dispirited that Lois’s heart was touched and troubled about him. But -he brightened up at sight of her and Ray, and gave them very hearty -greeting. The lack of news concerning them had been an addition to -his load. The sight of them now, alive and well, lightened it to that -extent. - -He brought the cheering news of a heavy defeat of the Austrians by the -Russians at Lemberg, but had nothing encouraging to report from France. -There we were still falling back and there was talk of the Government -removing itself from Paris to Bordeaux, which was not reassuring. It -sounded so fatally like 1870. - -“Wise, all the same,” said the Colonel confidently. “Every additional -step the Germans take from their base is a possible added risk for -them. But I heard better news than that, Dare. We think they’ve come -far enough and now we’re going to call a halt. And maybe we’ll even -drive them back.” - -Over dinner, the great adventure had all to be gone through again, and -the girls did their best to convince Lois that she was not properly -married and certainly ought to go through the ceremony once more to -make quite sure, for her own satisfaction and theirs. - -“Think how awful it would be,” said Vic portentously, “if in ten years’ -time you found it was invalid, and Ray could just shake you off with a -simple ‘Good-day, Madam!’” - -“Horrible!” laughed Ray. “Don’t you worry yourself thin over it, -Balaclava. I’ve seen to it that she can’t get rid of me, no matter how -she wants to. Everything is quite all right, my child. Trust me for -that.” - -And Lois, smiling confidently, was yet praying in her inmost heart, -“God spare him to come back to me! It may be that when he goes I may -never see him again.” - -They were still deep in talk when the boys came swinging in about -nine o’clock, and at sight of the uniform they drew themselves up and -saluted smartly. - -“Three paces in front and three in the rear!” said Noel, and they -marched solemnly past Ray before dropping their hands. “And if a simple -private may be permitted to address his superior officer,--where the -dickens have you two dropped from--a Zeppelin?” - -“No, only the Folkestone boat----” and, after a brief outline of their -wanderings abroad, they fell into talk of regimental matters. - -“Maybe they’ll put you back into the Second Battalion,” suggested -Gregor, and Lois’s heart beat hopefully. - -“Oh, will they, my boy? Not if I know it. The Colonel knows all about -it and he’s holding my post for me.” - -“Lucky beggar!” said Noel enviously. “I wish we were off to the front. -Greg and I are as fit as any man in the First, and I’ll bet you we’d -knock spots off most of them in the shooting line, eh, Greg?” - -“And what are you playing at all day?” - -“Oh, mouching about Head-Quarters while the Hossifers change their -minds as to what we should do. There’s a fearful lot of mouching about -in this business.” - -“Worse than Throgmorton Street,” said Gregor. - -“To-day we did a route march to Richmond Park. Jolly hot it was too, -and some of the fellows had about as much as they could stick. Greg and -I didn’t turn a hair. By the way,”--to the girls,--“you remember us -telling you of the old lady who comes out on to her balcony every time -we go out Putney way, and waves a black cardboard cat to us for luck? -She was there again to-day, waving away like a jolly old windmill, and -we gave her a cheer that did her heart good, I bet.” - -“Dear old thing!” said Honor. “Perhaps she’s got someone in the -battalion.” - -“I don’t know. But she’s undoubtedly gone on us.” - -“I don’t see why,” said Vic critically. “Any news of uniforms yet?” - -“On the contrary,” laughed Gregor, with quiet enjoyment. “Some of the -fellows in the First Battalion, who couldn’t go abroad for one reason -or another and so have been put back into the Second, have had to give -up theirs to fellows in the First who were short, and they’re as mad -as bears at having to tramp in civvies. Dear knows when we’ll all get -fitted out.” - -“Oh well,” chimed in Noel, “I’d sooner wear my own things than go about -like a convict in blue serge, as some of Kitchener’s poor beggars have -to.” - -“Yes, they do look rotten.” - -“Feel rotten, too, you bet. If they put me in convict dress I’d feel -like chucking the whole thing.” - -“Kilt before country!” suggested Vic ironically. - -“Not a bit. Kill’t for one’s country, if you like, so long as -it’s in a kilt. But I can tell you it makes a difference to your -feelings--padding along like an out-of-work procession, with every kind -of coat and cap that ever was made. Makes one feel like a rotten old -jumble sale.” - -“You’ll get your togs in time,” said Ray. “The great thing is to have -the man that’s to go inside them fit and well.” - -“Well, we’re all that anyway. We’ve been route-marching ourselves and -potting clay-pigeons for a month past.” - -Mr and Mrs Dare were noticeably quiet. She, because, in spite of -herself, her heart was depressed at all this close approximation of the -Juggernaut of War. It was impossible to close her mind to the fears -that beat blindly at it. Con gone already--possibly gone for good. Ray -going,--he might well never come back. Noel and Gregor longing to -go,--they would jump at any chance that offered. They too might never -come back, and she had fathomed Gregor’s feeling for Honor, from the -shy anxious glances he cast at her whenever opportunity offered. About -Noel and Vic she was not so sure; their manner towards one another -puzzled her. But already she forecasted all the boys lying dead and all -the girls left broken-hearted. - -Mr Dare had his own reasons for withdrawing into his shell. Business, -of course, for one thing. And for another,--Noel. - - - - -XXI - - -Noel, embryo warrior, was a very different personage from the Noel of -six weeks ago looking forward without enthusiasm to the stool in St -Mary Axe. - -The sudden enlargement of his horizon to the boundless possibilities -of military life and active warfare had, unconsciously, and perhaps -unavoidably, wrought changes in him. - -From being a boy, dependent on his father for both present and future, -he had become suddenly a man, independent, and at times somewhat -resentful of either control or advice. - -His whole heart and mind were given with his active body to his new -duties. He was soldier first, and anything else afterwards. To Honor it -was quite understandable. He was jovially patronising to her and she -held her own by chaffing him royally when chance offered. To his father -and mother it was understandable also, but none the less somewhat of a -trial at times. - -Their boy was no longer wholly theirs. He had suddenly become a soldier -and considered himself a man. They rejoiced in the better points of his -manly development, but both felt keenly their deprivation in him; Mr -Dare perhaps the most. - -They saw very little of him. He was away early and home late. He was -making many new acquaintances. Home and its associations counted for -less with him. There was a general loosening of the old ties. They felt -it, indeed, a beginning of the end that might find its consummation out -there in the battle-smoke. - -“We are losing him already,” said Mr Dare with a sigh, one night when -a telegram had come from Noel saying that as he had to be on orderly -duty early next morning he would sleep at the Soldiers’ Home opposite -Head-Quarters. He had hinted at the possibility once or twice, but they -had not taken it very seriously. - -“We must not lose him,” said Mrs Dare quietly. “He is keeping all -right, John, I feel sure. He said he might have to stop now and then, -you know. He’s got to take his turn with the rest.” - -“I know, I know,” said Mr Dare, a trifle irritably. “All the same I -feel as if we were losing our hold on him.” - -“I suppose it’s inevitable to some extent. We must do our best to hold -on to the little that is left us.... If he ... if he comes through it -safely, as we pray that he may, perhaps he will come all back to us.... -Perhaps,” she said, following up a side thought, “it is nature’s way -of softening the blow if he should not come back to us. The parting is -beginning even now.” - -“Hmph!” grunted Mr Dare resentfully. “He’s getting out of hand, that’s -certain. I asked him to see to something the other day ... I really -forget what it was,--some small thing that he’d have done in a moment -two months ago,--and he simply let it slide,--never gave it another -thought apparently----” - -“Boys are very thoughtless when their minds are full of their own -concerns. I expect he just forgot all about it.” - -“That doesn’t make it any easier to bear.” - -“I know. It only explains it perhaps.” - -“And I’m beginning to doubt if he’ll ever settle down to ordinary work -again. He has never been so keen on anything in his life before. I -don’t understand it. Where does he get it from?” - -“It’s partly boyish love of adventure, and partly, I don’t doubt, -real feeling that every man is needed, and when so many are going he -wouldn’t be one to stop behind. We will give him credit for that. But, -indeed, it is the last thing in the world I would have desired for him.” - -“Or I,” said Mr Dare, with a sigh. - -The change in their relationship manifested itself in many little -ways,--quite trifling some of them, but to Mr Dare’s already bruised -and sensitive feelings none the less galling. - -The frank confidences of boyhood, which kept back nothing, were gone. -Beyond the bare statement that they had done a route march to Richmond -or Hampstead, or had been mouching about Head-Quarters all day, or -playing about in Hyde Park, even his mother’s interested attempts to -draw him out came to little. - -His manner at times seemed to hint that it would be waste of time on -his part to enter into the details they would so have enjoyed hearing, -since, being mere civilians, they could not possibly understand purely -military matters. - -When, occasionally, by some lucky chance, his Company was dismissed -earlier than usual, if he did not stop in town to go to a theatre or -music-hall with some of his fellows, he would rush in for a meal and -off again almost before he had swallowed it, to call on this one or -that one where he evidently found more congenial company than at home. - -If they all happened to meet outside, at Oakdene or elsewhere, they -would find him in the highest of spirits, reeling off merry yarns of -their doings en route or at Head-Quarters, and they felt a little -sore that all this brighter side of him should be kept for foreign -consumption when the home market was pining for it. - -“Have we failed in any way in our duty to him?” grumbled Mr Dare, after -one such evening at Oakdene, as he and Mrs Dare went along together to -their own house, which had never felt so lonely since they came to it. - -“No, John, we haven’t,” said Mrs Dare. “It’s just that he’s very young -still though he thinks he’s a man, and youth draws to youth. It’s -always the way, I expect.” - -“It wasn’t so with Con, or Lois.” - -“They had the younger ones--and they were all younger together. Young -birds must quit the nest, you know.” - -“Youth is apt to run to selfishness, it seems to me. I think we’d -better take a smaller house.” - -“We might well do that, but I would be sorry to leave Willstead and all -our friends.” - - - - -XXII - - -Ray went off in full rig first thing in the morning, taking his kit -with him, in case, as he thought probable, he should be ordered to join -his company at once. - -Vic and Honor had business in town, so they went with him and Lois to -the station, where they found Noel and Gregor marching impatiently -about the platform for the train to come in. - -“You can’t travel with us, you know,” said Noel. “We go third. -Officers----” - -“Thanks, my child! ‘Out of the mouths of babes----’” - -“The girls will of course follow the uniform,” said Noel, while Gregor -grinned hopefully. - -“Of course,” said Honor, and they got in with Ray. He leaned out of the -window for a last word with Lois, who was going up later to do some -shopping; and then they were gone, and she stood watching the joggling -end carriage till it was out of sight, and wondered forlornly if she -would ever see him again. - -She was still standing watching, with an odd little feeling in her -heart that when she turned away it would be like cutting the last link -with the happy past and turning to face the anxious future, which stood -waiting peremptorily just behind her, when the down-train ran in. She -turned with a sigh that was almost a sob, and went out into the road. - -Her eyes were misty as she went. It was the beginning of partings, and -if he went to the front, as he most assuredly would if the rest went, -it might be the beginning of the end. - -And life was just at its fullest with them, just opening its fairest -white flowers. They were so very happy,--and would have been happier -still, if this hideous war had not come. - -But she must be brave. Ray was feeling it just as much as she was. But -he had gone to his duty with high heart and quiet face, and she must do -no less. - -But it was hard, hard, hard, to part with him so soon. God help them -both! They were in His hands, and she must cling to that with might and -main. - -“Lois!”--and she turned quickly and found Alma hurrying to come up with -her. - -But a much-altered Alma. The beautiful face, which used to be all -agleam with the joy of life,--the gracious curving mouth, where quick -smiles and ready laughter used to hover,--the eloquent eyes which -caught your thought in advance of your words,--they were all there but -frozen to the semblance of a marble saint. Lois caught her breath at -the change in her. - -“Am I too late? Has he gone?” panted Alma. - -“Just gone. Oh, Alma! My dear! My dear!” and they embraced one another -there in the road, oblivious of who might see them at it. For the -tragic web of circumstance in which their hearts were caught lifted -them above all care for such small mundane considerations. - -“Vic wrote me a line last night about you two, and I knew Ray would -have to be off at once, so I came as soon as I could possibly get away. -I _would_ have liked to see the dear old boy once more. How is he -feeling and looking?” - -“Just as you would expect him to. He looks splendid. He is -feeling--well, very much as we are, I suppose.” - -“Yes, these are sad and sober times for us all, but chiefly for us -women. I think it hits us harder than the men. They have all the -glamour and the activities. There is not much glamour in it for us who -sit at home and wait for things to happen and fear the worst all the -time.” - -“No ... Al, dear, I can’t tell you all I feel about you and Con. But, -dear, I feel somehow that he will come back. I do not believe he is ... -gone for good.” - -“I don’t myself. But the waiting and hearing nothing is hard to -bear.... I thank God a dozen times a day that I have my work and that -it is hard and taxing. If I hadn’t I should break down. You must get -some work to do, Lois. It is the only way to bear it.... But when Con -and I parted, the evening of the day we were married--it was just -outside the big gate at the hospital--I just knelt by my bed half the -night. I could not think of sleeping. And I gave him up, there and -then, to God and his country, and made up my mind that I might never -see him again.” - -“It was brave and strong of you, dear. I’m afraid I haven’t got up to -that yet.” - -“It is best so. We may never see again any of those who go. If we can -bring ourselves to really understand that, and say good-bye to them in -our hearts, I think the pain of the actual news will be lessened.” - -“But we can always hope for them.” - -“Of course. We can, and do, and will. And if the hope is realised, so -much the better. But if not, the pain will be less.” - -“It is all very terrible. Who would have thought it three months ago?” - -“Ay, indeed!... I cannot help hoping that those who brought it about -may suffer in themselves every bit of the suffering they are causing.” - -Her unexpected visit was a pleasant surprise to the Colonel and Auntie -Mitt. It reminded them of her sudden home-swoops of ante-war-days, but -with the unforgettable difference. Auntie Mitt, indeed, kept stealing -surreptitious glances at her, as though she were not absolutely certain -in her own mind that this really was their own Alma. And the Colonel’s -voice had a novel inflection in it when he spoke to her. - -“No news, Uncle, or you would have let me know,” was her first word to -him. - -“Nothing yet, my dear. I shall hear the moment they have anything -definite. But they all seem quite hopeful.” - -But she had heard that so often that it had come to lose its savour for -her. - -“I am very sorry to have missed Ray. I got off as early as I could, but -we are terribly busy. Have you any further idea as to my going out?” - -“My dear, you could go out, I imagine, with any party that is going. -But ... I really think your best place is here,--at your own work, I -mean. If any news came, and you were away out there somewhere,--think -how awkward it might be. We might want you at once and never be able to -find you. Can’t you bring your mind to stopping at home?” - -“I suppose I must if you put it so. But I feel as though I would like -to go out and tackle harder work still,--the harder and grimmer and -redder, the better.” - -“I know,” said the Colonel understandingly. “And if I thought it best -I would say so, and help you there. But I really think you are best at -home--for a time at all events. Now I must run, my dear. I promised to -be in town at eleven. Stop as long as you can. I’ll send you good news -as soon as I learn any.” - -She stayed till close on mid-day, ran in for a short chat with Mrs -Dare, had an early lunch, and then Lois walked back to the station with -her. - -“You will keep me posted as to Ray’s doings, Lo,” she said, as they -stood on the platform. “For your sake, dear, I could almost wish he -might not have to go. But I know him, and you know him, and we both -know that if the rest went and he was left behind, it would break his -heart.” - -Lois nodded. Her heart was very full. She wished Alma could stop at -home. They could have helped one another. Life was all partings at -present. - -“Remember, dear,” said Alma, as the train came round the curve, “we -are more than ever sisters now. We must help one another all we can. -And--don’t forget!--throw yourself into some good work or other. It is -the very best anodyne.” - -And, the next minute, Lois was watching the joggling end of the train -as it carried her away. - -She went slowly home to discuss with her mother what work she should -set her hand to. But before they had decided anything the matter was -settled for them, for the time being, in quite a different way. A -telegram was brought over to her from Oakdene, and it was from Ray at -Watford. - - “Have got rooms for you at Malden Hotel here. Come along.” - -This meant a quick fly round if she was to do him no discredit. Within -an hour she was in town and whirling in a taxi to Regent Street. Inside -another hour she had chosen, tried on, and had properly fitted, a -costume and hat equal to the occasion, and she reached the Malden at -Watford just in time for tea. - -Then she waited joyously for Ray to put in an appearance, her clouds -for the time being lightened by the certainty of seeing him again, and -of having at all events some small share in him for a few days longer. - -She knew well enough that it was but a postponement of the evil day, -a very temporary lifting of the war-clouds to let the sun of their -happiness shine briefly through. But possibly, to one under sentence -of death, a respite of even a week may seem a mighty gain,--seven long -days and nights snatched from the shadow beyond. Possibly!--for to some -it might seem better to have it over and done with rather than to live -on in the inevitableness of the ever-approaching menace. - -Yet most would be gratified for even the gift of days, and Lois was -so. Like Alma, she felt that when the actual parting came it would be -wisdom to look on it as possibly--probably final. And so these few -unlooked-for extra days were jewels beyond compare, vouchsafed them by -the goodness of God,--to be made the very most of, and afterwards to -be treasured as long as memory lasted. - -Ray came striding in on her just before dinner. - -“Well!” he said, when he had kissed her to their hearts’ content, and -then held her off at arm’s length to take her all in,--“We are smart!” - -“To be upsides with you, sir.” - -“However did you manage it? I was half afraid it would bother you to -come, but the Colonel gave permission and it was too good a chance to -miss.” - -“I should think so, indeed. I am so glad you managed it.” - -There was a joyous surface-light on his face though below it was set in -firm restraint. Like herself,--but with larger knowledge of the actual -facts and so a clearer estimate of the possibilities--he thought it -more than likely they might never see one another again when they said -their last good-bye. The slaughters out there were terrible. Officers -especially were going under at a terrific rate. It seemed, from what -they heard, that it was an essential part of the new low German fashion -of fighting to make a dead set at every man in officer’s uniform. - -But not for one moment did he regret what they had done. If the worst -was to come, his last breath would be the happier for the knowledge -that their lives had been one, and that Lois’s future was secure so far -as Uncle Tony’s generous hands could make it. - -His billet was not very far away, but the Colonel, who had known him -for years and Uncle Tony still better, and who had heard all about -their little romance, permitted him the privileges of the hotel so that -he might spend as many of these last precious hours with his new-made -wife as possible, and Ray saw to it that love trespassed not on duty by -so much as one hair’s breadth. - -He was up and away each day before she was properly awake, and he came -in at night--when he came in at all--tired and hungry, but hungriest of -all for another sight of her. - -And Lois spent the days intercepting the Battalion on its route marches -or exercising itself in cover-taking and trench-digging and manœuvering -at Fortune’s Farm. - -And always, when she managed to catch the long line on the march, the -sight of the intent masterful faces under the cocked bonnets, and the -rhythmic swing of the kilts and bare knees and hodden-gray stockings -and blue flashes, to the spirited skirling of the pipes, brought her -heart up into her throat, and, often as not, the tears into her eyes. - -They looked so gallant and so gay, so eager to be at it, so gloriously -young and full of life, so ready to do, and dare, and die,--and, -inevitably, some of them, many of them maybe, would swing away into the -war-cloud, just like that--gaily, gallantly, eagerly, and would never -come out of it. The glorious young life would gasp itself out on the -foreign soil,--those who loved them would know them no more save as -happy memories,--and maybe that life that was dearer to her than her -own would be among them. - -It was a sweet, poignant, uplifting time, and she lived to its utmost -every vital moment of it. As in one of those gorgeous death-banquets -of old, the ever-pressing knowledge of the inevitable end heightened -and deepened and quickened the vitality of the moments that were left. -Life--in herself and in these others--had never seemed so wonderful and -so desirable. For--for some of them--its hours were numbered. - - - - -XXIII - - -Lois was present, in a corner, at that last parade at Fortune’s Farm -when the new rifles were given out. And, later on, with misty eyes -and that troublesome choking in the throat, she was watching the long -wavering gray line as it swung gallantly away with skirling pipes and -eager faces--en route for the front. - -Then she turned to go quietly home to her mother and Uncle Tony, and to -wait God’s will in the matter. - -She was to live at Oakdene as became Ray’s wife, but her time was to -be spent between the old home and the new, and her energies devoted to -cheering them both. For both were lonely now and clouded. Of all the -merry company that had filled them with such joyousness of youth, she -was the only one they could now count upon. - -Victoria and Honor were out all day, slaving on Out-of-Work-Girls -and Belgian Refugee Committees, organising crowds of willing but -in many cases incompetent workers,--arranging accommodation and -hostels,--procuring houses, funds, and furniture, and getting them into -something like working order. - -Noel was only in for supper, bed, and breakfast, and not always that. -The Colonel was carrying on a recruiting campaign with a patriotic -vehemence much in excess of his years and his bodily powers. - -Miss Mitten meekly, and Mrs Dare boldly, did their utmost to keep his -exertions within reasonable limits. But to all their expostulations and -warnings his invariable reply was,--“We need every man we can get, and -since I can’t go out, I must do all I can at home. Better to wear out -than to rust out or go under to those damned barbarians.” - -“But you’ll do no good by killing yourself,” Mrs Dare had remonstrated, -one morning when he looked in as usual in passing, and punctuated his -paragraphs with muffled sneezes. - -“Oh--killing myself! It’s not got to that yet. (Att-i-cha!) -I’m enjoying it, I assure you, Mrs Mother. We got twenty fine -(Att-i-cha!)--boys at Greendale last night.” - -“Well, do keep your hat on when you must speak outside, I beg of you. -The nights are getting cold and you’re not as young as you were, you -know.” - -“It’s my one com--att-i-cha!--complaint. And it’s only the outer husk -that feels it. I’m really wonderfully young inside, you know. I tell -you, I was quite put out yesterday when a young fellow insisted on -giving me his seat in the train.” - -“It was very nice of him.” - -“Hmph! Well, no doubt it was,--att-i-cha!--But, hang it all, I don’t -look as decrepit as all that, do I? However, I got the better of him by -giving it to an old lady--a really old lady--a minute or two later. By -the way, Lois had a post-card from Ray this morning.” - -“What does he say? Where have they got to?” she asked eagerly. - -“Says nothing except that he’s well and very busy. No word as to where, -of course.” - -“And no postmark?” - -“Nothing. They’re behind the war-screen now. We shall know nothing -more,--unless through the despatches, maybe. Now we’ve got to live -on--att-i-cha!--on faith and hope,” he said meaningly. - -“And keep our hats on when we speak outside,” she retaliated. - -“That’s all right,” he laughed. “I’ll begin taking you and Auntie Mitt -with me, one on each side, to hold it down. I want to wave it all the -time nowadays, at thought of having those infernal Huns on the run -at last. More good news again to-day. Russia’s smashed Austria into -little bits in Galicia. Whurr--att-i-cha!--oo!” - -“They were retiring somewhere yesterday.” - -“In East Prussia. Quick advance there was by way of diversion no doubt, -and now they’ve done their work and are taking up safer positions.” - -“When any part of our side retires it’s always a strategic retreat,” -smiled Mrs Dare. “But when the Germans retire it’s always a rout.” - -“Well--so ’tis,” he laughed, and shook hands and sneezed himself away. - -“You’d be very much the better of a couple of days in your bed,” was -her last piece of advice as he went down the path. - -“When the war’s over. Did you ever manage to keep John in bed for a -couple of days?” - -“Yes--once,--for about two weeks--when he had pneumonia.” - -“Well I’ll stop in bed when I get pneumonia,” and he waved his hand -again and marched away. - -At teatime, when Miss Mitten and Mrs Dare, and their respective -body-belt and jersey, were keeping one another company in friendly -silence in the Oakdene parlour, Lois having gone into town to complete -her outfit, the Colonel came in looking no more than a washed-out rag -of his usual cheerful self. - -“I’ve decided to take your advice, Mrs Mother, and lie up for half a -day,” he said depressedly. “I ought to be at Northcote to-night, but -Penberthy has taken it on instead. He’s a good chap, Penberthy, but -unfortunately he can’t speak worth a button. However----” - -“The sooner you’re in your bed the better,” said Mrs Dare. “You can’t -afford to neglect a cold such as that.” - -“I always obey superior orders, don’t I, Auntie Mitt?” - -“I’m sure you did, Sir Anthony,”--at which he chuckled, but less -heartily than usual. - -“Just one cup of tea to cheer me up, and then, if you will be so good, -Auntie Mitt, a good big white-wine posset,--one of your very best, and -you’ll send me up a bit of dinner later. Nothing like one of Auntie -Mitt’s big white-wine possets for chasing a cold out of the system. -Talk about grateful and comforting!” - -“I know them. Take my advice and put your feet in mustard and water as -well,” said Mrs Dare. “You’ve got a very bad cold on you.” - -“I shouldn’t wonder if it’s a touch of influenza,” said Miss Mitten, -when she returned from compounding the posset. “They say there’s a good -deal of it about. I don’t know that a posset is the best thing for him. -He seems hot enough to me. But it’s no good arguing with him. He always -does just as he pleases.” - -“I thought you agreed that he always obeyed superior orders,” smiled -Mrs Dare. - -“And so he does, but they’re always his own. When he was in the army -I have no doubt he did all he was told and sometimes perhaps a bit -more. That’s how he won his V.C. But since he retired he’s been his own -master entirely.” - -“If he seems feverish in the morning I should send for Dr Rhenius, if -I were you. He has been grievously overworking himself of late, and, -since he won’t take care himself, you must be careful for him.” - -“Yes, I will,” said Auntie Mitt, with a very decided nod and pursed -lips. “He forgets his age sometimes.” - -Next morning the Colonel was so limp and full of pains that he raised -no objection when Miss Mitten suggested the Doctor. - -“A stitch in time sometimes saves nine,” quoth she. - -“I’ve got ’em already,” grunted the patient. - -“Then it’s a touch of pleurisy, I expect,” and she hastened to get -advice on the subject. - -Dr Rhenius at once confirmed her speculative diagnosis. - -“You’re my prisoner, Colonel, till I say the word, or I won’t answer -for consequences. You’ve been altogether overdoing it, you know.” - -“King and Country need you,” grunted the Colonel in extenuation. - -“Well, you’ll be more use to them alive than dead, and you’ve got to -knock off now, or you’ll knock out. Besides, they can spare you well -enough for a bit. They’re getting all the men they can handle, aren’t -they? In fact they don’t seem able to handle properly those they’ve -got, according to the papers.” - -“Big job, you see, ... machinery hardly in order yet.... Took us -unawares, ... but we’re going to see it through.” - -“What have you got up to now?” - -“What Kitchener asked for.... Half a million or so.... We’ll need lots -more before we’ve done with it.... Get me right again as quick as you -can.... I’ll go crazy lying here.” - -“If you follow my instructions, and keep still, and don’t talk so much, -I’ll get you right again. And when I do, just try and remember that you -can’t stand as much as you could when you were five-and-twenty.” - -The Colonel grunted, since talking set the pain in his side stabbing -again. Dr Rhenius wrote out a prescription, gave Miss Mitten very -specific directions as to treatment, shook a warning finger at the -obstreperous one, and promised to call back in the evening. - -“He’ll not be easy to manage,” he said to Miss Mitten, as he went -downstairs. “Shall I send you in a nurse?” - -“Is it as bad as that?” asked Auntie Mitt, to whom an outside nurse -suggested extremity. “If you think it necessary, Doctor, we must have -one.” - -“No need to be alarmed--as yet. But I know him, and he’ll be a handful. -And then there’s the night work, you see.” - -“If you think it necessary then.” - -But as he went down the path he met Mrs Dare coming up to enquire how -things were. And when he told her, she said at once, “Nurse? We don’t -need any outside nurse. We’ll manage him between us all right. Lois -will be a great assistance.” - -“She’s home then? And Ray?” - -“They’ve all gone,--to the front, we suppose;--the first Territorials -to go. They consider it a great honour. For myself ... it makes me sick -to think of it all.” - -“Very well, then. The three of you ought to be able to manage him among -you. We will leave it so.” - -“We’ll manage him all right. Tell us just what you want done and we’ll -do it. It will be good for us all and keep our minds off other things.” - -No man could have had three more devoted and indefatigable nurses. They -spared themselves nothing and put up with the safety-valve growlings of -their patient like angels. - -The Colonel had had so little illness in his life--apart from -wounds, which were quite a different matter--and felt so keenly his -country’s need for him to be up and doing, that he took his shelving -with anything but a good grace. Auntie Mitt and Lois alone would -never have been able to manage him. But to Mrs Dare he submitted--a -little grumpily, at times--but still submitted, and exploded all his -objurgations on things in general under cover of the bed-clothes. - -He insisted on Lois reading all the latest news to him from the morning -and evening papers, and forbade her to say a word in her letters to Ray -about his illness. “No good worrying him,” he said. “He’ll have his -hands full out there without having me on his mind.” - -But presently he developed pneumonia in addition to the pleurisy, -and the Doctor put a peremptory embargo on all war news, since it -invariably sent his temperature up. Absolute lack of news, however, had -just as bad an effect, and finally he was permitted to hear from day to -day that things were going well, and all the papers were kept for him -to read when he got better. - -They made much of the fresh loyal offers of help from India, and of the -successful aeroplane raid on the Dusseldorf Zeppelin sheds, carefully -withheld any hint of the sinking of the Aboukir, Cressy, and Hogue, and -the impudent quarter-of-an-hour’s bombardment of Madras by the lively -Emden, and soothed him with assurances that France and Britain were -splendidly holding their own along the Aisne, that Russia was forging -ahead in Galicia, and that recruiting was quite up to expectations. In -fact they played motherly censor to him with the already over-heavily -censored news, and permitted nothing whatever of an upsetting nature to -reach him; and of course they overdid it,--just as the other censor did. - -He grew suspicious of all this cotton-woolling, and at last insisted on -Lois holding the paper before him each morning so that he might scan -the head-lines. Then he indicated what he wanted read and there was no -getting out of it. - -Dr Rhenius, appealed to, did his best to break him off it, but the -result was disastrous. The Colonel’s temperature went up a degree and a -half through suppressed indignation, and he had to be allowed his news. - -“Not a da-asht infant,” he murmured. “Can stand it--good or bad. Must -know.” - -But the fever sapped his strength to such an extent that at times he -lay so listless and apparently careless even of news that Auntie Mitt -grew apprehensive. - -“I don’t like it,” she confined to Mrs Dare. “It’s so very unlike him. -I would really be thankful to hear him swear a little.” - -“The fever has weakened him. Once the crisis is past he’ll begin to -pick up again, and then we’ll tell him you want to hear him swear -again.” - -“It’s not really that I want to hear him swear, you understand, my -dear,” Auntie Mitt superfluously explained, “but that I wish he were -well enough to do so.” - -“I know. I would like to hear him too.” - -To keep the house quiet Victoria was stopping with Honor at The Red -House, which was quite to Noel and Gregor’s taste. - -They were still doing heavy route-marching almost every day, and -on the off-days and Friday, which was pay-day, they mouched about -Head-Quarters or put in a bit of drill in Hyde Park. - -The pay of three shillings a day--to cover travelling expenses and -daily rations--was to Gregor a negligible matter. But to Noel, who had -never earned a farthing in his life, it was uplifting. He was actually -keeping himself--in cigarettes and amusements,--and in conjunction with -Gregor even took the girls to a theatre now and again. It was a grand -thing not to be dependent on anyone for his pocket-money, and it made -him feel excessively manly. - -He and Gregor--who, like a good chum, did his best to keep his purse to -the level of his friend’s--made many quaint discoveries in the matter -of restaurants where they got a cut off the joint and two vegetables -and bread, and choice of cheese or sweets, for the all-round sum of one -shilling. - -Marching days, however, were lean days with them, when they were -dependent on the none-too-filling sandwiches and biscuits, and apples -and ginger-beer, of the travelling canteen. And those nights they -took home tremendous appetites and were unjovial till they had been -satisfied,--a task which they divided about equally between The Red -House and the White. - -Mrs MacLean rejoiced whenever they went to her, and would have liked -them to come every night, and she was never caught short. The girls did -their best. But the boys’ movements were as a rule so unforeseeable, -and at all times subject to such unexpected alteration on the spur of -the moment, that providing for them was no easy matter. - -Gregor, at all events, showed no sign of complaint, and doubtless the -presence of the girls more than made up for any little defects in the -commissariat. Noel expressed himself freely on the subject if occasion -offered. - -“Wait till we go into camp,” grinned Gregor. “You’ll learn things, my -boy. Bully beef and hard potatoes, and mouldy cheese, and jam that’s -all the same whatever it calls itself!” - -“Rotten! They might at all events feed us properly.” - -“It’s a shame,” said Honor. “I should strike, or mutiny, or whatever’s -the proper thing to do in such a case.” - -“Proper thing is to grin and bear it and buy some extra grub outside to -fill up with. If you kicked you’d be taken out and shot at dawn,” said -Gregor gravely. - -“I don’t think soldiering’s as nice as I thought it was.” - -“It’s not,--not all of it. But it’s got to be done since the Kaiser’s -said so.” - -“The wretch! I wish he would die.” - -“Not yet. He’ll suffer a lot more if he lives. At least I hope so.” - -“He can never suffer as he deserves to,” said Vic. “I would have all -the pain and misery he has brought about visited on his own head, but -that’s not humanly possible.” - -“He’ll suffer,” said Gregor weightily. - -“If we lick him all to pieces, as we shall do,” said Noel, “he’ll -surrender to England and be given a palace to live in and a nice little -pension. We’re altogether too soft-hearted. When a man’s down we’re -always sorry for him, no matter what he’s done, and we sentimentalise -over him like a lot of silly schoolgirls.” - -“That all you know?” said Honor. - -“What about those kilts?” asked Vic. - -“Next week, please the powers! Things are turning up by degrees. A lot -of sporrans and spats came in this afternoon. I saw them myself.” - -“We’ll be getting clothed bit by bit,” said Gregor. “You’ll see us -swanking it in one spat and a sporran maybe. There’s no kilts come yet, -and as for tunics!--you see there’s more khaki wanted than they can -turn out, though the mills are working night and day, they say.” - -“And pretty poor stuff it is, from all accounts,” said Noel. “You -should hear a song the fellows have about the rotten time they’re -taking to give us our uniforms. How does it go now? They roar it at -top of their voice whenever the Colonel comes along,-- - - ‘There’s a matter here to which we call attention, - Concerning which we feel a trifle warm,-- - The days are getting cold, and we’re slowly growing old, - And here we are without our uniform.’ - -“Chorus, Greg!” - - ‘Sunday we pray we soon may get ’em; - Monday, our spirits rise a bit; - Tuesday is the day they say they’re on the way, but not a bit of it! - Wednesday, we grow a shade mistrustful, - Thursday our hopes begin to fall; - On Friday we’re despairing, - On Saturday we’re swearing, - We’ll never get the--er--ruddy things--at all.’” - -“Bravo!” cried the girls. “Encore!” - -But just at that point Mr Dare came in, with a tired nod to them all, -and Noel’s high spirits seemed to lower at once by several degrees. - -“How is the Colonel to-night?” Mr Dare asked Vic. - -“He’s just about the same, Mr Dare. The stabbing pain has gone, they -say. But he’s very limp. Even good news of the war hardly bucks him up. -He seems to want just to lie quiet, and I’ve never in my life known him -do that before. It shows how pulled down he is.” - -“It’s the crisis to-night, I think, and it’s going to be a wild -night,”--as the wind shook the windows as though trying to force its -way in. “A bad night for the trenches and a worse on the sea,” and he -subsided into the evening paper. - -“Lois had another post-card from Ray this morning, father,” said Honor. - -“That’s good. He’s all right so far then. Doesn’t say where, I suppose?” - -“Gives no clue. Not allowed. Simply says he’s quite all right and -awfully busy.” - -“Well, we must be thankful for that much. The losses all round are -terrible to think of. If it goes on much longer at this rate----” but -consideration for the boys cut his Cassandra ruminations short. - -“Has the City any views as to how long it’ll last, sir?” asked Gregor. - -“Any amount of views but no knowledge. Some are sure it’ll be all over -by Christmas----” - -“Rotten! I jolly well hope not,” jerked Noel. - -“--And some say it will last two years or even three.” - -“There’ll be a lot of wastage if it goes on that long,” said Gregor. -“And all the countries would be bankrupt, I should say.” - -“It’s too ghastly to think of. We’ll hope for better things,” and he -took to his papers again. - - - - -XXIV - - -The big trees clashed and roared all night in the gale. In the morning -a huge limb of one of the Oakdene elms lay on the lawn, and Vic, -running across, anxious for news of the Colonel, brought back word that -he had had a very restless night but was now sleeping quietly, and that -Mrs Dare was sure he was no worse,--which in itself was great gain--and -was not sure that he was not even a little better. - -And so it proved when the Doctor called. He pronounced the crisis -passed and had every hope that his patient was now on the road to -recovery. Every care was still needed, however, as one could never tell -what might happen in the case of such a trying combination as pneumonia -and seventy-eight years of age. - -Dr Rhenius himself was looking somewhat fagged and overworked. He -said there was a great deal of sickness about, and set it down to -some extent to the general depression of spirits caused by the war. -Every house he went into had some connection with it, and the sense of -anxiety was widespread,--not, he admitted, as to the ultimate issue, on -which all minds were made up, but as to the fate of relatives at the -front. For the descriptions which came home of the fierceness of the -fighting and the effects of the huge German shells, which dug holes in -the ground big enough to bury an omnibus in, seemed to leave small hope -of escape to any who might be exposed to them. - -The stories of the atrocious barbarities practised by the German hordes -in Belgium and Northern France depressed them all greatly,--Malines, -Termonde, Rheims--there seemed no bounds to the inhumanity of these -twentieth-century Huns. They had shed off the thin veneer of their -civilisation and reverted to savagery, and the whole world stood -aghast. That a nation professedly Christian, and calling on God to -assist its nefarious enterprises, could not only descend to such depths -but could actually exult in them, was a shock to the moral sense of -humanity at large. - -What chance could there be for any who fell into their vengeful hands? -What chance even for those who went out to meet them in fair fight? For -trickery and treachery and every mean device were the chosen weapons of -their dishonourable warfare. Nothing was sacred if it stood in the way -of their winning. They played the game like dirty little gutter-snipes -whose intention was to win at all costs, and the fouler the means the -more they exulted in the success of them. - -There were heavy hearts at home in those days, and ‘Missing’ came to be -regarded as almost more hopeless than ‘Dead’;--certainly more pregnant -of sorrows, for the dead were happily done with it all and could suffer -no more. - -Con was ever in their thoughts. When his mother read the grim accounts -of the dastardly ill-treatment meted specially to British prisoners, -she was tempted at times to wish his name had been in the fatal list -which left no room for further hopes or fears. - -And Ray,--any day might bring similar word concerning him. Now and -again a brief post-card reached them saying he was well and busy. But -even as they read the precious words and rejoiced in them, each one -knew full well that since they were written the end might have come. -When bullets are flying and shells are bursting it takes so little to -end a life. And those venomous Germans made a point of picking off -every officer they could crawl within range of. - -And presently Noel and Gregor would go. They were as keen for the front -as though they bore charmed lives and death and mutilation were not. -There were sure to be drafts before long to make good the inevitable -wastage in the First Battalion, and these two, splendidly fit and eager -for the fray, were certain to be among the chosen. - -Mrs Dare and Lois and Alma knelt long of a night, and carried prayers -in their hearts all day; Honor and Vic perhaps also, but the matter -had not come so poignantly home to them as yet. Their younger eyes -were still somewhat misted with the pomp and glamour of war, but from -the others’ the scales had fallen and only the horror and misery were -apparent to them. - -Alma had run over to see how Uncle Tony was getting on, and they were -all six of them for once sitting over their tea together, working -busily, and talking quietly in the shadow of the war-cloud. Lois had -been sitting with Uncle Tony till he fell asleep. He slept much of late -and was often listless and drowsy and very unlike himself, when awake, -especially in the afternoon. - -It was Alma who said, out of the fulness of her heart and of much -inevitable brooding over the matter, - -“You know, if the women of all the world would only say the word, and -say it together, and not only say it but mean it with all their souls -and lives, there could be no such thing as war in the world.” - -Mrs Dare suspended work for a minute and regarded her thoughtfully. -Auntie Mitt peered at her over her spectacles in wonder. Lois nodded -comprehendingly, with a star in each eye. Honor shook her head -doubtfully. Victoria said, “If we had the vote--perhaps.” - -“The vote will come all right in time,” said Alma. “But I was thinking -larger than that. In all wars the women are the greatest and final -sufferers. If they could join hands all over the world and say ‘There -shall be no more war!’--well ... there would be no more war.” - -“I don’t see why,” said Honor. “The men would make war all the same if -they wanted to--as they would.” - -“Not if the women meant what they said, and were prepared to stand by -it and all its consequences. Ey!” she said, throwing up her arms in -a supplicatory gesture, “I wish I could rouse them to it! It could be -done. I’m sure it could be done. And just think what it would mean!” - -“It would mean new life and new hope,--a new Heaven and a new Earth,” -said Mrs Dare impressively. “It would be a Second Advent.... My dear, -it is a wonderful idea.... If only it were possible!” - -“It is quite possible,” said Alma, with a quiet confidence which -impressed even Vic, who gazed at her in wondering amazement, “The idea -came to me in the night, as I lay thinking of Con and Ray and the boys, -and all the other men-folk of all the other women in the world. And I -saw how it all might be done if it only could be done.” - -“How then?” asked Vic, impatiently, as Alma fell silent and sat gazing -thoughtfully into the fire. - -“Why,--in this way.--All men--except the few in every country who hope -to benefit by war--want peace. Peace and happiness are the natural and -healthy states of life. War is unnatural and unhealthy. It is a lapse. -Women crave peace still more, for they are the greatest sufferers by -war. Let them unite all over the world----” - -“Women don’t unite,” snapped Vic. - -“Even for such a trifling thing as the Vote they have shown that they -can unite. But when this war is over--it has got to be fought out, I -quite see that.--But it will leave the heart of womanhood all over the -world so sore and bruised that, unless I am mistaken in my sex, the -women will be ready to do greater things than we have ever dreamed of -to prevent a recurrence of such doings.... I can imagine a World-Wide -Women’s League for Peace;--membership, every right-thinking woman in -the whole world----” - -“Phew!” whistled Vic. “How’d you get ’em?” - -“Easily, I think. That is a detail. I’ll deal with it presently. Such -an organisation, pledged to prevent war, would be all-powerful. And, -if it could do this greatest thing of all, it would naturally have its -say in all the minor matters which, through men’s mishandling and -easily-roused passions, so often lead to war.” - -“You’re a suffragette, Alma,” said Vic. - -“I detest them and all their ways, as you very well know. But the -greater necessarily includes the less. Let women ensure peace, and they -will be accorded their rightful voice in all the smaller matters. Be -sure of that.” - -“And how would they go to work to ensure peace?” asked Mrs Dare. - -“Perhaps my vague ideas will seem rather crazy to you. But they are -something like this. Imagine the women of the world pledged to keep -the peace at risk even of their lives. Two nations verge on war. To -the women that means loss in every way--chiefly in the lives that -are dearer to them than their own. Very well,--then let them stop it -by risking their own lives. It is the smaller risk after all. After -exhausting every other means of averting the war, let the women of each -such nation rise in their millions and if necessary take their stand -between the contending armies and defy their men to fight.” - -“Through my heart first!” said Vic. - -“Exactly. The Germans, they say, fire on Belgian women and children. -Do you think they would mow down their own? Not for all the Kaisers -ever heard of. War would stop. But I do not think it would ever come -to that final test. Certainly it would never come to it more than -once. A thousand women shot down by their own men would create such a -revulsion of feeling that wars would end. Telemachus ended the fights -in the arena by giving just his single life. Here would be a thousand -Telemachuses,--a million if need be!!! If their determination was -known, and that it would be persisted in to the very uttermost,--to -death itself,--the men would understand that war was impossible, and -they would find some other way out. But, mind you, if women had their -proper share in the councils of the state their voice would always, on -both sides, be for reason and righteousness. It only needs reason and -righteousness on both sides to arrive at the proper solution of any -dispute.” - -“I wish with all my heart you could bring it about, my dear. It is a -grand idea,” said Mrs Dare. “But----” - -“How were you thinking of roping all the women of the world in, Al? -It’s a mighty big contract,” asked Vic. - -“At first it seemed to me that if you could show the militant women -how much more likely they were to attain their ends by my ideas than -by theirs--they could do it. But I am not sure. They have turned the -world against them by their follies. Nobody would trust them. And then, -suddenly, I thought of the Salvation Army. I see a good deal of them, -you know, round our way. And those gentle-voiced women, with the quiet -happy faces and shining eyes--it is just the very work for them. They -are in and of every country in the world, and everywhere they are held -in esteem. They certainly could do it. Those Salvation Army women could -save the world from War.” - -“Alma,” said Mrs Dare, with shining eyes and deep conviction. “You lay -awake to some purpose, my dear. It is a noble idea. I wish it could be -brought about.” - -“It could. But whether it can----” - -“The Krupps, and all the other war-mongers in every country, would -fight you like Death,” said Vic. - -“Of course. That is their only raison d’être. But the women could beat -the war-mongers.” - -“And all the Kings, Kaisers, Tzars, Emperors, and such like would be -dead against you.” - -“Yes. It would be better for my schemes if they were all done away -with. Republics don’t as a rule go to war as readily as Kingdoms and -Empires.” - -“South America,” suggested Honor. - -“They are exceptions because they are not yet educated up to -self-government. But where a King is the best man for the post I should -let him remain--as president.” - -“There was one of our stalwarts at the Pension Estèphe,” said Lois. -“Who used to argue such matters with Ray. And I remember him saying -one day,--‘You in England are very well-placed. You have practically a -Republic with a permanent head.’ It struck us both as very sensible.” - -Then the Colonel’s bell, the push of which lay to his hand on the bed, -announced peremptorily that he was awake, and Lois ran upstairs to -him while Auntie Mitt hastened to prepare his glass of warm milk and -cognac, which at the moment did duty with him for afternoon tea. - -“He is a very sick man,” said Alma, when Auntie Mitt had left the room. -“Pneumonia is a serious matter at any age, but at seventy-eight it is -almost hopeless. The great thing is to keep him quiet and----” - -“And that is no easy job,” said Mrs Dare, with a reminiscent smile. -“We tried to keep the papers from him by telling him the news and -suppressing anything we thought might upset him. But he was too sharp -for us and insisted on seeing for himself, and now he sees the paper -every day and makes Lois read the bits he wants.” - -“I can imagine the state he would be in. His heart is wrapped up in -England’s fortunes. I wish it could all end and give us back our boys.” - -“Ay, indeed!” said Mrs Dare. - -“It can’t end till Germany’s beaten flat,” said Vic, with emphasis. -“It’s no good half-ending it and simply laying up trouble for the -future.” - -“Of course,” nodded Alma. “We are all agreed as to that. Now I must run -and look after my sick men.” - - - - -XXV - - -John Dare was sitting all alone by the fire one evening in the parlour -of The Red House. The boys were at Mrs MacLean’s that night, and Honor -and Vic were assisting in an entertainment to the Belgian Refugees at a -neighbouring hostel. - -Desirous as they all were of being of service to the exiles, -circumstances had not permitted of their taking any of them into their -homes. And so they all subscribed towards one of the many hostels and -assisted in such other ways as their many engagements allowed time for. - -And Mr Dare took no exception to it all. It was an unavoidable part of -the general upsetting, and to tell the truth he was so depressed and -uncompanionable these days, that he felt himself better company for -himself than for any of the younger folk. - -Honor had got for him from the library the two big volumes of Scott’s -Last Journey to the Pole, and with these and a pipe he was doing his -best to forget for a time business troubles and German delinquencies. - -With a tap at the door, the maid announced, “A gentleman to see you, -sir.” - -“Who is it, Bertha?” he asked, with a touch of annoyance at the -disturbance of his peace. - -“I don’t know, sir. He said you would not know his name, but it’s -important.” - -“Oh well, show him in here,” and he closed his book and stood up to -meet the intruder. - -“You won’t know me, Mr Dare,” said the newcomer, when the door closed -on Bertha. “I am Inspector Gretton from Scotland Yard. I’ve come to -consult you on a certain matter and I want all the information you can -give me.” - -“At your service, Inspector. Won’t you sit down? Have a cigar,”--and he -got out a box from the cupboard under the bookcase. “Now what’s it all -about?” - -“It’s this, Mr Dare. For some time past the wireless stations at -Newstead and Crowston have complained of jamming. In other words, -unauthorised messages are passing, and by a process of elimination -and deduction we are satisfied they emanate from somewhere in this -neighbourhood. As an old resident and a Justice of the Peace----” - -“A very nominal J.P. of late, I’m afraid,--thanks to the war.” - -The Inspector nodded. “We felt sure, however, that any assistance in -your power you would render us.” - -“Assuredly. Anything I can do. But I don’t at the moment see what.” - -“From the nature of the messages that have been intercepted,--they are -in code of course, but our people have managed to get an inkling of -their meaning,--it is evident that someone is sending out information -of moment to some enemy station, probably nearer the coast. And we’ve -got to get to the bottom of it. Very powerful instruments are being -used and probably from a considerable elevation. Now is there anyone in -this neighbourhood, within your knowledge, likely to be up to anything -of the kind?” - -“I should not have thought so.... In fact it is hard to believe it of -any of one’s neighbours....” - -“Unfortunately, our experience is that the folks who are in this kind -of business are just the ones one would least expect. What enemy aliens -have you round here?” - -“Quite a lot,--or we had. And mostly quite nice people. But a number -have left since the war began,--either they thought it safer to get -back home, or you are taking care of them elsewhere.” - -“We’ve got quite a lot on our hands, but evidently not all. Would you -tell me, sir, who there are left about here?” - -“Well,--let me see. There are the Jacobsens,--they claim to be Danish, -I believe. He’s a produce-importer in quite a big way.” - -“What age of a man, and what family?” - -“He’ll be somewhere about fifty, I should say. Family,--wife, two -daughters and a boy of seventeen.” - -“Where does he live?” - -And so they progressed through such a list as Mr Dare could make out -on the spur of the moment. The Inspector making an occasional note and -asking many pointed questions. - -And when Mr Dare’s spring of information had apparently dried up, he -asked suddenly, - -“Whose is the tall old-fashioned red-brick house up there on top of the -hill,--the one with the double-peaked roof and the tall old-fashioned -chimney-stacks?” - -“That? Oh that’s Dr Rhenius’s. But he’s quite above suspicion. He’s -lived here for over twenty years.” - -“What is he? German?” - -“It’s the one thing he resents--to be called a German,” said Mr Dare, -with a smile. “His father was a Pole from somewhere near Warsaw. He -himself has been naturalised for twenty years at least----” - -“Do you know that?” - -“Well,”--with a surprised lift of the brows--“if you put it as a legal -point,--no! I don’t know that anyone has ever questioned it. You see, -he is our medico round here, and is greatly esteemed and liked. He’s an -uncommonly clever doctor and everybody’s very good friend.” - -“I see. Quite above suspicion, you would say, Mr. Dare?” - -“Oh quite. He hates Prussian Junkerdom as every Pole must.” - -The Inspector nodded acquiescingly, and they chatted on about the war -and things in general till his cigar was finished and he got up to go. - -“I will ask you to keep all this absolutely to yourself, Mr Dare,” he -said. “Not a word to anyone, if you please, sir.” - -“Certainly, Inspector. I’m afraid I’ve not been of much use to you. If -you think of anything else----” - -“I’ll let you know, sir,” and Mr Dare saw him out of the front door, -and returned to Scott and the South Pole. - -As for Inspector Gretton, he wandered off to have a closer look at the -old-fashioned red-brick house on top of the hill. - -Just a week later he called again on Mr Dare, late one night, and, as -before, found him all alone. - -The Colonel had suddenly, when apparently getting on well, developed -pneumonia in the other lung and was in a very critical condition. Mrs -Dare spent all her time at Oakdene in unremitting attendance on him, -with every help that Lois and Auntie Mitt and Honor and Vic could -render. The boys were sleeping in town that night as they had to be on -early fatigue next morning. - -“Well, Inspector? Any success?” asked Mr Dare, as Gretton was shown in. - -“I’ve come to end the matter, Mr Dare. I thought perhaps you’d like to -see the last act.” - -“Really? Got him. Who on earth is it?” - -“If you care to come with me I’ll show you, sir,” and Mr Dare got into -his hat and coat in record time and went out with him. - -At the gate they were met and followed by half-a-dozen stalwarts in -flat caps and overcoats, who in some subtle fashion conveyed the -impression of law and order, armed not only with right but with other -weapons of a more practically coercive nature. - -The roads were almost in darkness in accordance with recent orders, -lest undue illumination should offer mark or direction for lurking -menace up above. They turned into the road up the hill and came to the -gate of Dr Rhenius’s old-fashioned red-brick house. - -“You don’t mean to say----” jerked Mr Dare in vast amazement. - -“Sh-h-h!” whispered the Inspector, pressing his arm. “See that -tree!”--a huge elm towering a hundred feet high just inside the gate. -“I’ve been up there every night since I called on you, with a pair of -the strongest glasses made--Zeisses,” he said with a chuckle. “Your -friend has visitors of a night and later on he gets busy.” - -Mr Dare was dumb. He could not take it all in. There was some grotesque -mistake somewhere. - -“We’re a bit early yet,” said the Inspector. Then, adjusting his -field-glasses and peering up at the house, “No, it’s all right. He’s at -work in good time to-night.” - -He handed the glasses to Mr. Dare, and whispered, “Look at that -chimney-stack. Get it against the Milky Way. See anything?” - -“I see the chimney.... Yes, and something like a flag-pole projecting -above it....” - -“Exactly,--a wireless pole. We’ll catch them at it.” - -He said a word to his men. They had had their instructions. They all -went noiselessly up to the house, some to the back and sides, the -Inspector, Mr Dare and two others to the front door. - -“Keep out of sight till I go in,” said the Inspector, as he rang, and -in the distance inside they heard the thrill of the bell. But no one -came. He rang again. - -“Good thing no one’s dying in a hurry,” he growled. - -It was not till after the third appeal that they heard steps inside -and all braced up for the event. As the door opened Inspector Gretton -quietly inserted his foot. - -“Is the Doctor in?” he asked. - -“He is oudt,” said a voice, which Mr Dare recognised as Old Jacob’s, -the Doctor’s factotum. - -“Then I’ll come in and wait for him. I want him at once,” and the -Inspector pushed his way in. - -As he did so Old Jacob dropped his hand against a spot in the wall, and -far away upstairs a tiny bell tinkled briefly. - -“Quite so!” said Gretton, and as his men followed him in, with Mr Dare -behind them in no small discomfort of mind,--“Secure the old boy, -Swift,” and to his still greater discomfort Mr Dare heard the click of -handcuffs. - -“Now quick,--upstairs!” and they followed him at speed. - -He seemed to go by instinct. Up two flights and they came on a door -which evidently led to a higher storey still. A curious door--of stout -oak, without a handle, and for keyhole only the polished disc and tiny -slit of a Yale lock. - -The Inspector wasted not a moment. He was up to every trick of his -profession. - -“Barnes,” he said quietly, and indicated the lock, and in a trice -Barnes inserted a thin stick of something into the slit, and as the -Inspector waved them all back there came an explosion and the stout oak -about the lock was riven into splinters. Gretton swung open the door -and ran up the narrow stairs. - -In the top passage they came on a short ladder leading to a skylight -through which the night air blew chilly. The others climbed quickly up. -Mr Dare stayed below. He regretted having come. He did not quite know -why he had come. He had not of course known where he was going when he -accepted Inspector Gretton’s invitation. Then the matter had developed -too rapidly to permit of him backing out. - -Exclamations came down to him through the skylight--the sound of -a brief struggle, and presently Gretton came down again obviously -well-pleased with himself. - -“Got him,--red-handed!” he said. - -“Not Dr Rhenius?” - -“If that’s his proper name. The man you’ve known by that name anyway. -And all his tackle. Two minutes more and his poles would have been out -of sight. He lowers them down the chimneys.” - -He kicked open a door in the passage, but the room inside was empty and -unfurnished. Two other rooms yielded the same result. - -Then the Inspector, searching about, discovered a trap-door, such -as might lead to cisterns, high up in one corner of the passage, -and shifting the ladder, he ran up, pushed the trap open, and said, -“Right--o!” - -“Come up and see for yourself, Mr Dare,” he said, as he crawled out of -sight; and Mr Dare followed him. - -It was a long tent-shaped apartment formed by the pitch of the roof, -well-lit by electric lights and littered with electric apparatus--a -number of powerful accumulators, spark coils, condensers, inductances, -a heavily built morse key, and so on,--everything necessary for sending -long-distance wireless messages. - -Mr Dare gazed about him in amazement. - -“There is no doubt about it then?” he jerked uncomfortably. - -“Not a doubt. How many lives all this may have cost us, God only knows. -However, he’s scotched now, and it’s one to me.” - -“Rhenius!” jerked Mr Dare again. “I can hardly credit it even yet. -Such a good fellow he always seemed, and we all liked him so! It’s -amazing--and damnable.” - -“Damnable it is, sir. And there’s too damned much of it going on. We’re -infants in these matters and altogether too soft and lenient. However, -this one won’t send out any more news.” - -“What is the penalty?” - -“If it’s as bad as I believe, he’ll be shot. We shall know better when -all these papers and things have been gone into. He’s been a centre for -spy-news, unless I’m very much mistaken, but this ought to end him, as -far as this world’s concerned anyway.” - -They went down the ladder again and Gretton replaced it below the -skylight and hailed his men, “Bring him along there.” - -And presently, preceded by one stalwart and followed by the other the -prisoner was brought down. - -The actual sight of this man who had been on such friendly terms with -him, had been admitted to every house in the neighbourhood on the -most intimate footing, had doctored them all in the most skilful way -possible, who was even then in attendance on their good friend the -Colonel,--and who all the time was playing the spy for Germany, gave -John Dare a most gruesome shock. He felt absolutely sick at heart. - -“Rhenius!” he gasped. “Is it possible?” - -But Dr Rhenius looked at him without a sign of recognition and spoke no -word. - -He was hurried away down the stairs. Inspector Gretton left two of his -men in charge of the house, and with the rest and his prisoners went -off in a taxi which he called up by the Doctor’s telephone. - -Mr Dare went back home feeling bruised and sore. Duplicity and -treachery such as this cut at the roots of one’s faith in humanity. If -he had been told this thing he would not have believed it. Nothing less -than what he had seen with his own eyes and heard with his own ears -would have convinced him. But he was convinced and saddened. - -He went across to Oakdene first thing in the morning. His wife had -to be told. The Colonel’s welfare had to be seen to--another medical -attendant provided,--explanations concocted. - -“What is it, John?” asked Mrs Dare, as soon as she set eyes on his -face. “Bad news?” - -“Yes, Meg,--bad news. But not touching any of ours,”--at which the -anxious strain in her face relaxed somewhat. - -“Dr Rhenius is in prison as a spy----” - -“John!”--and she sank aghast into the nearest chair. - -“It is true, Meg. I was there. His house is just one big wireless -station. They caught him in the act. It is horrible to think of such -treachery. I’ve hardly slept a wink all night.” - -“No wonder! But--is it possible? Is there no mistake?... Dr Rhenius?... -I would have trusted him with my life.” - -“Yes. It is beyond me. But there is no possible doubt about it. They -have taken him and Old Jacob away, and the police are in charge of the -house. They say he will be shot.” - -“How terrible! Not the shooting. If he has done this he deserves to be -shot. But ... our Dr Rhenius! Oh, I cannot take it in yet.” - -But in time she had to accept it, and they fell to discussion of ways -and means. - -The Colonel was to be told that Rhenius had been suddenly summoned -from home,--which was grimly true, and Mr Dare was to call at once on -Dr Sinclair in the village, give him the same explanation, and beg his -attendance on their patient. - -As he expected, Dr Sinclair received him with a certain amount of -professional surprise at the irregularity of his procedure. He hummed -and hawed for a time, and put such very pointed questions that Mr -Dare was inclined to believe that he must have had suspicions of his -own--provoked possibly, he thought, by professional jealousy and -Rhenius’s German-sounding name; all of which was natural enough. - -All he permitted himself was that Dr Rhenius had been suddenly called -away, and his return was so very doubtful that they felt it necessary -to call in another doctor at once. And Dr Sinclair went. The Colonel -was much put out and not easily reconciled to this transfer in which he -had had no voice. It was so unlike Rhenius to go off like that without -so much as a good-bye. He fumed weakly and fretted over it, and was -barely civil to Dr Sinclair, who shook his head doubtfully when he went -downstairs with Mrs Dare. - -“He is very weak,” he said. “Keep on as you are and above all things -keep him quiet and free from disturbance of mind.” - -“It is not easy.” - -“I see that. But it is absolutely essential. The fever has pulled him -down terribly and his heart is in a very ticklish state.” - -The following day the papers had the matter with bold -head-lines--“WELL-KNOWN WILLSTEAD DOCTOR ARRESTED AS SPY, HOUSE FULL OF -WIRELESS APPARATUS,” and so on. - -They did their best to keep the paper from the Colonel. But the very -attempt aroused his suspicions and sent his temperature up again. - -In despair he was allowed to glance at it--and the mischief was done. -He insisted on Lois reading every word, and all the time he lay looking -at her with a dazed look on his white face. - -“Rhenius!” was all he said, in a strange shocked whisper, when she had -finished, and then he lay back among his pillows and turned his face as -far away from them as he could. - -And--“Rhenius!”--they heard him murmur more than once during the day, -as though he were groping painfully among his shadows after some -understanding of it all. - -About tea-time, when Lois was sitting with him,--just sitting quietly -by his bed-side so that he should not feel lonely, for he had declined -to be read to, he turned quietly to her and feebly extended his hand. - -She took it in her two warm ones throbbing with life and sudden fear. -It felt very thin and cold, and, with a great dread at her heart, it -seemed to her that his face was changed. It was gray, and very weary. - -“I am so glad, dear,--so very glad,” he whispered,--“about you and -Ray.... Good lad! ... he will come back to you ... and Con--good lad -too!... God bless you all!--all!” - -Lois had slipped on to her knees beside the bed, and the tears were -running down her face in spite of herself. - -“No!” he said. “Don’t cry!... Very tired.... I shall be glad ... to -rest.” - -Then he suddenly raised himself in the bed, and looked beyond her. - -“Last Post!” he said, quite clearly. “Thank God, I have done my duty!” -and then he sank back. And Lois released one hand, from the thin cold -hand which had no longer any response in it, and beat upon the floor -with it to call the others. - - - - -XXVI - - -Almost inevitable as it had more than once seemed, in the crises of his -illness, the Colonel’s death was a great shock to them all. - -At the sound of Lois’s hasty tattoo on the floor, the others had -hastened up to her. They found her still clasping the one thin cold -hand with one of hers and still beating the floor with the other. - -They thought at first that it might be a fainting fit--which in itself, -in the circumstances, would have been ominous enough. But briefest -examination showed them that their old friend had answered The Call and -was gone. - -They were down again in the small sitting-room, discussing it quietly -and sadly, when Auntie Mitt, after staring fixedly at Lois for a full -minute, as though she had suddenly detected something strange in her -appearance, said suddenly, - -“My dear, you are Lady Luard now.” - -And Lois stared back at them both with a startled look, and gasped, “I -never thought of that. Oh, I wish Ray were here!” - -They all wished that, but no amount of wishing will bring men home from -the war. - -“We must send Alma word at once,” said Mrs Dare. “I will write out a -telegram.” - -“It will be a shock to her,” said Auntie Mitt. “Perhaps, my dear, a -letter----” - -“Alma was prepared for the worst,” said Mrs Dare. “Last time she was -here she told me it would be a miracle if he got through such an -illness at his age. She would like to know at once, I am sure,” and she -sat down at the writing table to prepare the telegram. - -And while they were still in the midst of these agitations, and Lois -was wondering how she would ever be able to reconcile herself to the -inevitable changes, she happened to glance vaguely through the window -and saw Alma coming quickly up the front path. - -“Here she is,” she cried, and jumped up and ran to meet her. - -At sight of Lois at the door, Alma exultingly waved a paper she carried -in her hand and quickened her pace almost to a run. - -“Good news!” she cried. “Word of Con at last.” - -“Oh, Al, I _am_ so glad,” and she burst into tears. - -“Why, Lo, dear, what’s up? It’s good news----” - -“Uncle Tony has just died. Mother was just writing a telegram to send -to you.” - -“I am not surprised, dear,” said Alma, putting her arm round her. “I -had very little hope of his pulling through. He was an old man, you -see. I am sure he was not very sorry to go; though he would have liked -to see the end of this war, I know. And I do wish he had heard about -Con. He would have been so glad. However, he knows more about it all -now than any of us, and that will please him mightily,” and they went -in together. - -So the good news and the bad--nay, why call the news of a good man’s -promotion bad news?--let us say, the other news tended to counteract -one another in the hearts of those who were left. Indeed the net result -that remained with them all was a sense of thankfulness,--for the -peaceful passing of the fine full life, and for the young life spared -for further work. - -Alma’s letter was not from Con himself, which at first sight was -disturbing. But the contents explained. Lieutenant Dare had been -wounded--in the hand, the writer said,--at Landrecies during the -retreat from Mons. He was now a prisoner in Germany--at Torgau, and was -being well looked after. He was making good recovery from his wounds -which had been severe, and they were all hoping that something might -presently be arranged in the way of an exchange of medical-staff -prisoners. The writer signed himself Robert Grant, R.A.M.C. - -“I can’t tell you what a relief it is,” said Alma. “I almost danced -when I got it. It’s worry that kills, and I was beginning to worry -about the boy. What about Ray?” - -“It’s ten days since my last letter,” said Lois. “I’m hoping for the -next every minute.... Do you know, Al, just at the very last, when -Uncle Tony knew the end had come, he said, ‘Good lad, Ray! He will come -back to you. And Con--good lad too! God bless you all!--all!’--that was -almost the last thing he said.” - -“The dear old man!... We will take it as a good omen.... I think, -you know, that just at the last they often have an outlook--a -forelook--altogether beyond our understanding. They see with other eyes -than ours.” - -“Undoubtedly!” agreed Mrs. Dare. - -Alma’s stay, even under the circumstances, could not be a long one. -They had had forty-nine wounded officers in, two days before, many of -their nurses had gone to the front, and they were very short-handed. - -Lois walked down to the station with her, and they talked in quiet -sisterly fashion of the past, present, and future. - -“It is very curious how things seem to work together at times,” said -Lois. - -“Always, maybe, if we knew more about it all, dear.” - -“Yes, I suppose so. Here have I been so taken up with nursing Uncle -Tony that I really have never had time to get anxious about Ray.” - -“Ray will be all right, you’ll see. I pin my faith to Uncle Tony’s -vision.” - -“And yet, when one allows oneself to think about it all, after reading -the terrible accounts of the fighting--and he would have me read them -all to him--it seems almost impossible that any of them can come back -alive.” - -“We had forty-nine of them the other day, and it’s amazing how well -they stand it. They’re as cheerful as can be, laughing and chaffing and -joking. And yet some of them are pretty bad. It’s just as well for all -of us to take the cheerful view of things.” - -“And then, just when Uncle Tony goes, and we were feeling it so badly, -you come in with your good news of Con. I can’t tell you how glad I am, -Al.” - -“I know, dear. And I’ll be just as glad for you one of these days. Pin -your faith to Uncle Tony.” - -And through the many dark days when no news came--and in those days no -news did not as a rule mean good news--the thought of Uncle Tony’s last -words held mighty comfort for them all. - -They would have liked to bury him quietly, with no great outward show -of the esteem and love in which they held him. Their feelings were too -deep for any outward expression and the times hardly seemed suitable -for making parade of death. There was sorrow enough abroad without -emphasising it. - -But Colonel Sir Anthony Luard, V.C., C.B., was a person of consequence. -He had died for his country as truly as any man killed at the -front. The higher powers decreed him a military funeral, and the -quieter-thinking ones at home had to give way. And, after all, they -believed it would please him. - -So, on a gun-carriage, escorted by a detachment from the reserve -battalion of his old regiment, with muffled drums and mournful music, -and the Last Post and the crackle of guns, he was laid to rest. And the -others picked up the threads of life again and kept his memory sweet by -constantly missing him and remembering all his sayings and doings. - -His lawyer, Mr. Benfleet of Lincoln’s Inn, came out immediately after -the funeral and explained to all concerned--so far as they were -available--the remarkably thoughtful provisions of his will. - -It had been made--or remade--immediately after the return of Ray and -Lois from abroad, and it aimed at the comfort and security of all his -little circle, so far as he could provide for these. - -There were many wet eyes and brimming hearts as Mr. Benfleet went -quietly through the details. - -To Miss Amelia Mitten--“my very dear and trusted friend”--he left -four hundred pounds a year for life. And Auntie Mitt, with her little -black-bordered handkerchief to her eyes, sobbed gratefully. - -To Margaret Dare--wife of John Dare of The Red House, Willstead,--“in -token of my very great love and esteem,”--he left the sum of £20,000, -settled inalienably on herself, with power to will it at her death to -whom she chose. - -“To my niece, Victoria Luard--who-might-have-been-Balaclava,”--it -was down there in the will in black and white, and they came near -to smiling at the very characteristic touch,--the sum of £50,000 on -attaining the age of twenty-one. - -To Dr Connal Dare--if still alive--the sum of £25,000; and to his wife -Alma, formerly Alma Luard, an equal sum. In case of Dr Connal Dare’s -death the whole £50,000 came at once to Alma. - -To Lois Luard, formerly Lois Dare, the sum of £25,000 in her own right. - -To Raglan Luard, the residue,--which, said Mr. Benfleet, would amount -to probably £100,000 or more when the securities, in which it was all -invested, appreciated again after the war. - -There were many little minor legacies and gifts to old servants and so -on. And Uncle Tony, if he was present in the spirit at the reading of -his will, must have been well pleased with the effect of his generous -forethought. - - - - -XXVII - - -Mrs Dare, wise woman and excellent housekeeper, had for some time -past been doing her best to cut down her proverbial coat to suit the -exigencies of the shrunken war-time cloth at her disposal. - -In other words, she had been curtailing the running expenses of The Red -House so as to bear as lightly as possible on the attenuated income -from St Mary Axe. Income, indeed, in actual fact, St Mary Axe had none. -Mr Dare was, of necessity, living on such remnants of capital as he had -been able to save from the stranded ship. - -So Mrs Dare found another place for her housemaid, prevailed on her -cook, who was a treasure and had been with her over five years, to -remain as ‘general,’ with promise of loss of title and reinstatement -of position as soon as times mended, and with Honor’s assistance and -an occasional helping hand from Mrs Skirrow, managed to get along very -well. - -Mrs Skirrow had always been a source of amusement at The Red House. She -had a point of view of her own and a sense of humour, and an almost -unfailing cheerfulness amid circumstances which drove many of her -neighbours to drink. - -Mrs. Skirrow did not drink. She had too much hard-earned common-sense, -and she could not afford it. With three men more or less on her hands, -and mostly more, it took every half-crown she could earn at her charing -to keep the home together. - -But the war had marvellously altered all that. Not only had she no -men to keep but the boot was on the other leg. Her men were actually -helping to keep her. She woke up of a night now and then and lay -blissfully wondering if it was all a dream, or if she had died and -gone to heaven. To be kept by her lazy ones! It seemed altogether too -good to be true. And yet every Friday, when she drew her money, proved -that true it was. No wonder she hoped with all her heart that it might -go on for long enough,--so long, of course, as none of them went and -got themselves killed. But men were as a rule so contrary that she -lived in daily expectation of one or other doing that same. - -For the first two months,--due possibly to some default on her part in -filling up and sending in the necessary but bewildering papers,--or -it might be to the general muddle at Head-Quarters--she received no -money at all. So she kept steadily on with her own work, and having -only herself to keep, got along very nicely, meanwhile never ceasing to -push her claims with all her powers, and few were better equipped in -that way. And Mrs Dare was kept fully informed of everything with racy -comments on all and sundry. - -Then at last, to Mrs. Skirrow’s great satisfaction, the matter was -arranged, and by some extraordinary method of calculation, promoted -without doubt by herself and argued with characteristic vehemence and -possibly just a trifle of exaggeration here and there, her money began -to come in. - -She received nearly ten pounds of arrears in a lump sum, and was to get -twenty-three shillings a week. - -She had never had ten pounds all at once in her life before, nor an -assured income of over a pound a week without needing to lift her hand. -And, strange to say--yet not so very strange, seeing that she was Mrs -Skirrow,--she did not lose her head and go on the ramp as some she knew -had done. - -In the first place she bought herself a new dress and coat and hat, -such as she had vainly imagined herself in, any time this ten years, -and fancied herself exceedingly in them. - -The choosing and buying of that dress and coat and hat, the going from -shop to shop and from window to window, comparing styles and prices, -with the delicious knowledge that the money was in her pocket and she -was in a position to pick and choose to her heart’s content, was in -itself one of the greatest treats she had ever known, and she spread it -over quite a considerable period. - -And when she turned up one night in her new rig-out, to explain to Mrs -Dare that she would not be able to come to her next week as she was -going to the seaside, Mrs Dare did not at first recognise her. - -When she did she complimented her on her taste and good sense in taking -a holiday and hoped she would come back all the better for it. - -“I will that. You bet your life, mum! Fust reel holiday I’ve had -for twenty years an’ I’m going to enjoy it. Seaside and decently -dressed--that’s my idee of a reel holiday. It’s not some folk’s though. -There’s me neighbour, Mrs Clemmens, now. She had no money for a while, -same as meself. Then she got twenty pound all in one lump. She’s got a -heap o’ boys at the war. And what did she do with it? She gathered all -her old cronies--an’ a fine hot lot some of ’em are, I can tell you, -mum!--and she took ’em all up to London, and fed ’em, and drank ’em, -and music-halled ’em, till they was all blind and th’ hull lot of ’em -was run in at last, and in the mornin’ she hadn’t enough left to pay -the fines. A fair scandal, I calls it!” - -“Disgraceful!” assented Mrs Dare. “I’m rejoiced to know that your -common-sense condemns that kind of thing, and I hope you’ll have a real -good time and come back all the better for it.” - -“I will, mum. You bet your boots on that!” - -And she did. She journeyed down to Margate in a ‘Ladies Only’ -third-class carriage, and bore herself with such dignity that her -fellow-travellers were divided as to whether she kept a stylish public -somewhere in the West End or a Superior Servants’ Registry Office. She -picked out a cheap but adequate lodging, she revelled in all the joys -of Margate, ate many winkles, and went to ‘the pictures’ at least once -each day, and the whole grand excursion, fares included, totalled up to -no more than thirty shillings,--“an’ the best investment ever I made -in me life,” she told Mrs Dare over her scrubbing brush, the following -week, “an’ I’m thinkin’ I’ll run down for th’ week end now and again, -if so be’s this blessed war keeps on a bit.” - -Mrs Dare found it really refreshing, amid the abounding troubles of the -times, to come across someone who had not only no fault to find with -them, but was actually, by reason of them, enjoying quite unexpected -prosperity. - -For her own heart had been heavy enough in those days, what with the -Colonel’s illness and her husband’s very natural depression as to the -future outlook. - -He had come in one night, some time before, in a state of most -justifiable exasperation. And yet the whole thing was so amazingly -impudent that in telling his wife of it he could scarce forbear a -grim smile. At the same time it was an eye-opener as to the truculent -immorality of the firms he had been dealing with for years past in the -most perfect good faith, and he vowed he would never forget it. - -Two of his best customers, one at Hamburg and the other at Frankfort, -owing him between them close on £5000 had coolly sent him word that, -as no money could be sent out of the country, they had invested the -amounts due to him in the German War Loan and would hold the scrip, and -the interest as it accrued, in his name. Both principal and interest -would be paid in due course, that is to say--when victory crowned the -German arms. - -It took Mrs Dare some time to realise that it was not merely a -distorted German form of practical joke. But her husband assured her -that it was not. - -“I had heard of it being done,” he said bitterly. “But I never expected -either Stein or Rheinberg would play so low a game on me. I’ve turned -over hundreds of thousands of pounds with both of them, and now--this! -It’s damnable!” - -“Perhaps the Government forced them to it.” - -“It’s dirty low business anyway, and it won’t make for German credit -when things settle down again.” - -But presently there came to him a bit of good fortune which made him -feel almost himself again. - -Business men who travel daily to and from town by train fall almost -inevitably into sets, who occupy always the same compartment and the -same seats in it, and among whom exists a certain good-fellowship and -friendliness. - -In John Dare’s set was a certain John Christianssen, of Norwegian -extraction, long established in London in the timber business, which -his father had founded sixty years before. - -Christianssen was British born, his father having been naturalised. He -had two sons with him in the business, and both had got commissions -through the Officers’ Training Corps, and were heart and soul in their -work and eager for the front. - -More than once he had lamented to Mr Dare his loss in them just at -this juncture. Not that he grudged them to the service of his adopted -country but that their going made him feel, as he said, as if he had -lost his right hand and one of his feet. - -Mr Dare sympathised with him but assured him it was better to have a -healthy body even with only one hand and one foot than to have no body -left. And Christianssen, knowing the nature of the business in St Mary -Axe, understood, and thought the matter out. - -And so it came to pass, one morning when they got out at Cannon Street, -that he said to Mr Dare, “I will walk your way, if you don’t mind. I -want to talk to you.” - -And when they reached the office, where one small office-boy now -represented the busy staff of old, he sat down in the second chair and -lit a cigar, and said, “I know pretty well, from what I have heard and -from what you have told me, Dare, how you are situated here. I have -a proposal. I can’t go on without help. I want to be across in Norway -and I want to be here at the same time. Now that Jack and Eric are away -my hands are tied. There is huge business to be done with all this -hutting going on, and I’m going to miss my share unless I make proper -provision. And that is you! What do you say?” - -“It’s killing to be out of work, which I never have been before for -over thirty years. My business is gone, as you know, and most of my -capital. Some of it’s invested in the German War Loan----” - -“No!” - -“Yes! The low-scaled rascals, instead of remitting what they owe me, -write to say they have loaned my money to their infernal government -and it will be repaid with interest when the war is over--meaning, of -course, over in the way they would like it.” - -“That is low business!” - -“Business! I call it simple dirty robbery. But it’s not only the fact -that they’ve done this, but--well, I just feel that I would be glad -never to have any dealings with any German again as long as I live.” - -“I do not wonder. But that is all the better for me. We have known one -another now, what is it--ten, fifteen years? Come in with me. We can -arrange satisfactory terms. You see, my lads may come back, or they -may not. My wonder, when I read the papers, is that any man of them -all ever comes out of it alive. But even if they are not killed I am -doubting much if they will find office-stools agreeable sitting for the -rest of their lives. If they do come back it will be the overseas part -they will want. So there it is. What do you say?” - -“I can’t tell you what I feel, Christianssen. The very thought of it -makes a new man of me. But--I don’t know the first thing about timber.” - -“If you will relieve me of the office work and financing, it will be -good business all round. Details as to woods, etc., you can pick up by -degrees. I have a good staff here, but the best staff in the world is -the better for being looked after. If I can be free to get across to -Norway and feel quite safe in going, it will mean much to me and to the -business. You will say yes?” - -“I’ll say yes with more in my heart than I can put into words,” and -they shook hands on it. - -So John Dare took up a new lease of life and hope, and was himself -again and twenty years younger than he had been any time this last -three months. - -And presently, for his still greater comfort and relief of mind, came -Uncle Tony’s unexpected legacy to Mrs Dare. It was a veritable Godsend. -For the heaviest part of his burden, during these late months of no -income and vanishing capital, had been the fear of what might befall -his home-folks when the worst came to the worst. - -The thought of it had kept him awake of a night and plunged him into -the depths. He had racked his tired brain to find some way out of -his difficulties. But it was like trying to climb a huge black wall -whose top shut out even the sight of heaven. For always the grim fact -remained that his business was utterly gone and he saw no prospect of -its revival. - -By the grace of God and Uncle Tony and John Christianssen he was -delivered from torment. The home-folk were safe whatever happened, and -he took up his new duties with all the enthusiastic energy of a heart -retrieved from despair. - - - - -XXVIII - - -Upon none of them did the burden of these weighty times lie so heavily -as on Lois Luard and Alma Dare. - -They both received occasional letters indeed, but Ray’s, though always -full of cheery hopefulness, were very irregular and subject to lack of -continuity through one and another occasionally getting lost on the -way. And, great as was Lois’s joy and thankfulness when one arrived, -telling of his safety and good health eight or ten days before, she -could never lose sight of the terrible fact that five minutes after he -had written it the end might have come. - -With what agonising anxiety she scanned each long, fateful casualty -list as it came out, only those who have done that same can know. Sore, -sore on wives and mothers, and on all whose men were at the front, were -those days when the desperate German rush on Calais and the coast was -stayed by the still greater and more desperate valour of our little -army, fighting odds as David fought Goliath of Gath. The mighty deeds -done in those days will never be told in full, for in full by one -Eyewitness only were they seen, and He speaks not. - -But doings so Homeric are of necessity costly. Britain and the world at -large were delivered from the Menace, but Sorrow swept through the land. - -Alma continued to receive word of Con, but at irregular intervals and -always by the hand of Robert Grant, R.A.M.C., Con himself being still -unable to put pen to paper. - -Mr. Grant, however, wrote with a clerkly hand, and Alma came to know -it well and to like it. The words were Con’s own for the most part, -but the writer occasionally appended as postscript a few remarks of -his own, always hopeful and encouraging, but neither of them at any -time gave any clue to the nature of these troublesome wounds which -prevented the sufferer using his pen. - -And this worried Alma not a little. She enquired as to them more than -once but received no explicit answers, and the matter began to get -somewhat on her nerves. - -Fortunately they were almost run off their feet at the hospital, and -with the certainty that Con was at all events alive she devoted herself -heart and soul to her patients, and that left her small time for her -own personal anxieties. - -Lois missed Uncle Tony dreadfully. Her assiduous care of him had -occupied her mind and kept her thoughts off her own troubles. Her eyes -were opened to the strange guise in which blessings are sometimes -vouchsafed to us. - -But now that Uncle Tony was gone her fears for Ray loomed larger and -larger. She envied Alma her over-hard work and her knowledge of the -worst. For herself--in spite of herself--she lived in constant fear, -and cast about for some engrossing work that should constrain her mind -in other directions. - -She spent much time on her knees these days,--when not bodily, still -in heart. And she came to recognise, as never before, the wonderful -applicability of the Psalms to all the affairs of human life, -especially to those who are in trouble and fearful of the future. She -could hardly open her Bible at the Psalms without coming straight on -some verse that might have been written for herself and the times. Even -the damnatory passages satisfactorily fulfilled her desires, since they -obviously applied to the Germans, against whom, as the causers of all -the trouble and the imperillers of what she held dearest, her feelings -grew ever more bitter. - -The terrible waste of humanity’s best, this all-superfluous sorrow -thrust upon a world which never lacked for sorrows, the inhuman -savagery of this new German warfare, the impossibility, as it seemed -to her, of any single man coming out alive, from the inferno of shot -and shell described by the papers, and those awful casualty lists,--all -these lay heavy on her soul in spite of all her utmost efforts after -hope and faith. - -“Alma was right. I must get to work or I shall go mad,” she said to -herself. - -And after consultation with Auntie Mitt and her mother, they decided, -with an eye to Uncle Tony’s wishes in the matter, to offer the -hospitality of Oakdene to the War Office for any wounded they chose to -send, either officers or privates. - -In due course an official came down, inspected the premises, indicated -the necessary preparations, and presently the house was as busy as a -hive with the ordered doings of ten wounded officers and four nurses -in charge. And in face of the actual and urgent necessities of these -warmly-welcomed guests, neither Lois nor Auntie Mitt nor Mrs Dare had a -spare moment to waste on their own anxieties and fears. - - - - -XXIX - - -Ray Luard was sitting on a barrel in a little station in the north-west -of France, watching his men unload railway trucks, when he received the -news of Uncle Tony’s death. - -An escort just returned from Head-Quarters had brought up the belated -mail, and glancing quickly at the envelopes, he hurriedly opened the -one in Lois’s handwriting, with a tightening of the lips at its narrow -black edging. - -He was not altogether unprepared. In spite of the Colonel’s desire -that word of his illness should not add to his nephew’s already mighty -anxieties, they had not judged it right to keep him entirely in the -dark. - -“Dear old chap!” murmured Ray to himself, as the news broke on him. -“Well ... he did his duty and died for his country as surely as any -of the rest of us.... (Steady there, boys, or some of you will be -getting smashed!)... But they’ll miss him terribly.... I wish this -cursed business was all over.... Lois is Lady Luard ... I wonder how -she feels about it. I’ll bet she nearly had a fit when the first person -called her that. And I bet that would be Auntie Mitt. She’s the one for -giving folks their proper titles. (“Knock off for a quarter-of-an-hour, -Mac!”--to his Sergeant. “That’s heavy work.”) Well, well!--Lady -Luard!--and a sweeter one there never could be. Damn this business! It -_would_ be rough luck to be knocked out right on top of this. However, -Lois is all right. That’s one comfort.” - -He looked lean and fit. Since Lois watched them swing away to the -skirling of the pipes at Watford, they had travelled far, though at the -present moment they were nearer home than they had been any time this -month or more. - -They had had a triumphal passage down the Solent, greeted by cheers and -whistles from all the neighbouring boats, which at once blunted the -edge of the parting from England and put a still finer point to their -patriotic zeal. Some of them, they knew,--perhaps many of them--would -never see the green cliffs of Wight again. But they were there on -highest service, and their hearts were strong and their spirits -above normal. They had gone first to Le Mans, then to Villeneuve St -Georges, and finally to Paris--such a different Paris from all Ray’s -recollections of it!--and yet in some ways a greater Paris than he had -ever known it. It was no longer the city of gaiety and light, but the -heart of a nation travailing in the birth of a new soul. - -France and Britain had had to fall back before the tumultuous rush -of the better-prepared German hosts,--from Mons to Le Cateau,--to St -Quentin,--to La Fère,--to Compiégne,--to Chantilly,--very near Paris -now. But there the quarry turned and hurled itself at its pursuers. The -hunters became the hunted and were forced back to the Marne, across -the Ourcq, to the Aisne. And it was while this was going on that the -Scottish came to Paris for the cheer and satisfaction of its citizens. - -Bit by bit, each to prevent the other overlapping and outflanking, -the hostile lines had spread further and further towards the coast. -From the banks of the Aisne, by way of Soissons and Compiégne and -Amiens to St Omer, General French’s eagle-eyed prevision had swept the -British forces round behind the French lines to that north-west corner -of France where Calais lay all open to the invader. From the north -came Sir Henry Rawlinson, with the 7th Division and the 3rd Cavalry -Division, covering the retreat of the gallant but exhausted Belgian -Army from the neighbourhood of Antwerp, and held the wolves at bay till -the gap by the coast at Nieuport was closed and the long line locked -tight from the sea right round to Belfort in the east. - -But, so far, the duties of the London Scottish, onerous and important -as they had been, had not taken them into the actual fighting line. -They were drawing nearer and nearer to it, however, and were all -looking forward with keen anticipation and the very natural desire -to be the first Territorials actually in the mêlée alongside their -comrades of the regular army. - -They had acted as body-guard to Sir John French; they had served as -military police and as railway-porters. And they had done everything -required of them, no matter how unpleasant or how different from their -usual avocations, with the zest of men whose souls had risen to the -great occasion. - -They had handled mountains of stores, and guns and ammunition, and -convoys of wounded and prisoners, and had buried many dead. - -They had travelled in cattle-trucks and on loaded coal-waggons. They -had slept in stations and barns and caves of the earth. They had left -all their kits behind them at Southampton and possessed only what they -carried on their backs. They had washed when they could, and shaved -whenever opportunity offered. - -They had stood-by ready to go anywhere and do anything for anybody at -any moment. All of which had always so far petered out many miles to -the rear of the fighting, though they had more than once come within -sound of the guns. But it had all been to the good. They gained new -experiences every day; they grew hard and fit under the taxing work, -and each day now was bringing them nearer to that for which they had -left home and friends and all that had hitherto made life worth living. -And not a man of them but was glad to be there. - -Ray had wondered much what it would actually feel like to be in a -red-hot fight. It had seemed at first as though modern fighting must -always be at long range, with no slightest chance of seeing what killed -you, or of hitting back except at a venture, the results of which -you could not see, and they were all agreed that this was a most -unsatisfactory and unsportsmanlike style of business. But, from all -they could hear, things were changing in most amazing fashion and there -had even been bayonet-work and actual hand-to-hand fighting. - -The huge German shells, which dug holes big enough to bury an omnibus -in, were diabolical, but apparently they did less mischief than might -have been expected, and one even got used to them to the point of -giving them sporty nick-names and treating them with contempt. - -He wondered how he and the rest would comport themselves when the time -came. They were fine fellows all, but new at the actual red game of -killing and being killed, and it was bound to be terribly trying--the -first time at all events. He hoped they would bear themselves well and -come through it with credit. - -Any moment they might be ordered to the front. Rumour had it that there -was terrific pressure against our long-drawn-out line in places. The -Germans wanted to get to Calais and seemed determined to hack their way -through at any cost. Well, if it lay with the Old Scottish they would -make that cost heavy or they would know the reason why. - -He thought constantly, in sub-conscious fashion, while his mind was -actually dealing promptly and clearly with the inevitable kinks in the -day’s work, of them all at home, especially of Lois. “Lady Luard!”--he -murmured to himself again, as he sat on his barrel in the station. -Yes, it would be a little harder still to leave it all before he had -even greeted her in her new estate. But her future was at all events -secured. He had made his will before leaving, and old Benfleet had it -safely stowed away in his big safe. And, after all, every man in a -regiment was not wiped out as a rule, however hot the fighting. - -When at last the job on which he was engaged was finished, he knocked -his men off, got them bucketsful of hot coffee and dashed it with rum, -since it had come on to rain and they were all very damp. Then he -saw them safely into the old barracks allotted to them as sleeping -quarters, made his way back to the station, and took possession of an -empty first-class carriage, scribbled a brief note to Lois,--scrappy -little letters they were, in pencil, and the paper at times got soiled, -but she valued them more than jewels of price,--and then he lay down -and was sound asleep in two minutes. - -Their time seemed to have come the next afternoon. Orders came to move -forward at three o’clock. Rumour, with a score of tongues, was on -the ramp. Kitchener had sent word that they were not to go into the -firing-line. Hard-pressed Generals all round were clamouring for them. -Half-a-dozen other Territorial Regiments were coming up and they were -all to go on together. They were not wanted. They were badly wanted. -The So-and-Sos had been practically wiped out. And the Etceteras had -had to fall back before three whole army-corps. - -At half-past four, motor-buses by the score came rolling up--from -Barnes and Putney, from Cricklewood and Highgate,--and the old -familiar look of them made them all feel almost at home. There were no -conductors, no tickets, no tinkling bell-punches. Everything was free -on the road to death. They climbed on board and whirled away between -the poplar trees, over roads that were cobbled in the centre only and -all the rest mud. Now and again a bus would swerve from dead-centre and -skid down into the mud and have to be shoved bodily back into safety. -Now and again one would succumb to such unusual experiences, and its -occupants would storm the next that came along and crush merrily in on -top of its already full load. - -But whatever their actual feelings--and when did a Scot ever show his -actual feelings?--they treated it all as the best of jokes, and sang -and laughed and chaffed as though it were a wedding they were going to. -And so indeed it was, the greatest wedding of all--the wedding of Life -and Death on the Field of Duty, whose legitimate offspring is Glory and -Honour--of this world or the next. - -Not one of them there, I suppose, though they bore themselves so -cheerfully, had any desire for fighting for fighting’s sake. They were -men of peace,--lawyers, barristers, students, merchants, clerks. They -had come away from comfortable homes and good prospects. They had left -parents and wives, lovers and friends, at the highest Call Life’s -bugles sound for any man. They did well to be merry while they might. -It is better to be merry than to mope, though your name be cast for -death while the laugh is on your lips. They laughed and joked, but the -White Fire burned within them. They were answering The Call. - -It was the longest ride any of them had ever had in a Putney bus, -and those on top got very wet, as it rained hard all night. They -were dumped down, in the raw of the morning just before daybreak, at -the pretty little town of Ypres, in Belgium, and rejoiced greatly at -the feel of solid earth under their feet once more. They crowded for -shelter into the Cathedral, into the station, into cover wherever they -could find it, and in time they got something to eat. - -In the morning they marched out to a wood, where a British battery was -hard at work and German shells came whistling back in reply. And all -the way along the road wounded men were passing in an endless stream to -the rear, while the shot and shell from other British batteries hurtled -over their heads, and not far away was the rattle of heavy musketry -firing. - -There was less light-hearted laughter now and little joking,--just one -jerked out now and again as outlet for over-strain. But most of the -clean-shaven faces were tense and hard-set, for this looked like the -real thing and Death was in the air. - -Then it was found that they were not needed there, and as the German -shells seemed to have a quite uncanny tendency in their direction, they -were ordered back into the town. - -And presently, about nightfall, their motor-buses came rolling up -again and carried them off to the little village of St Eloi, and the -sounds of heavy fighting drew nearer. - -The village seemed deserted, so they took possession and made -themselves as comfortable as the big guns and their big thoughts would -permit. To-morrow, they knew, must surely see them into it and the -thought was sobering. - -Rations were issued and tongues were loosed again, but conversation was -spasmodic and joking somewhat at a discount. They were all very tired; -to-morrow would be a heavy day, and one by one they fell asleep--for -some of them the last sleep they were to know. And Ray, finishing a -hasty scribble to Lois, lay down also and slept as soundly as any. - -They were up with the dawn, and rations and more ammunition were served -out. Ray managed to get a rifle and bayonet and found the feel of them -comforting. Nothing but a revolver--and a dirk in his stocking--had -made him feel very naked and unprotected when bullets would be flying. -Now he felt very much more his own man, and ready to repay in kind -anything that came his way, except “coal-boxes” and shrapnel which were -beyond arguing with. - -They moved on to another small village--Messines,--where there was a -large convent, and not far away, a pumping-mill. The pumping-mill began -to turn as soon as they showed face, and instantly German shells began -falling thickly about them. - -Then came the final order to fling themselves into a gap between a -regiment of Hussars on the right and of Dragoons on the left, to dig -themselves in as close to the enemy as possible, and hold them at all -costs. There was an unprotected spot there, and the keen-eyed Germans -had spied it and were heading for it in a torrential rush. - -“Forward, boys! And Steady! Scottish!--Strike sure!”--and they were -into it up to the neck. - -It was a magnificent demonstration of mind over matter. These boys, who -had never faced red hell before, went in, keen-faced, tight-lipped, -tensely-tuned to Death and Duty. All their long training, all their -hardening and hardships, all that mattered in this world and the next -centred for every man of them into this mighty moment, this final fiery -trying of their faith and courage. - -And neither failed them. It might have been Wimbledon Common with the -canteen and lunch awaiting them in the hollow behind the old Windmill, -so calm and steady was their advance, so admirably calculated their -extended order. - -For a quarter of a mile or so the shells which were pulverising the -village behind passed over their heads. Then came an open field swept -by heavy rifle-fire and machine-guns. One of the machine-guns was in a -farmhouse on the left. Ray ordered bayonets and they tore across the -field to stop it, yelling like wild Highland rievers. - -It was hot work and men were falling thick. They got to a hedge and -along it to the house, but the Germans had bolted, and shells were -raining in. - -Back to the cover of the hedge, where a ditch gave them time to -breathe. And as they lay there panting, with their hearts going like -pumps, they found the bushes thick with blackberries and they were -mighty cooling to parched throats. - -But, presently, shells and the devilish machine-guns discovered them -again, so they crawled along till they saw a haystack and made a rush -for it, and lay down flat behind it as tight as sardines in a tin. -Then, a short distance ahead, they saw a trench, and took their lives -in their hands and dived into it and for the time being were safe. - -The trench was being held by regulars--Carabineers--and they gave the -kilts most hearty welcome. - -“Hot hole, sir,” said a Sergeant cheerfully--though he put it very much -more picturesquely. - -“Bit warmish,” Ray agreed. “What’s next on the menu?” - -“Just sit tight till it’s dark, and if they come on biff ’em back and -tell ’em to keep to their own side. ---- ---- ---- ’em! They don’t -seem to care a ---- how they get wiped.” - -“Germans are cheap to-day,” grinned another. - -“I ---- well wish some o’ their ---- officers would come on. I’m ’bout -fed up plugging privates.” - -So they made themselves comfortable there, while the shells screamed -overhead and shrapnel and bullets plugged into their modest earthwork. -And surreptitiously they took stock of one another to see who was left. -Many well-known faces were missing. Some they had seen go down in the -rush. But there was always the hope that wounds might not be fatal. - -They scanned the ground they had covered. It was dotted with little -heaps of hodden gray and their hearts went out to them. Some lay quite -still. One raised his head slightly. - -“That’s Gillieson!” jerked Ray, and in a moment had crawled out of the -trench and was worming his way to the fallen one. - -The others watched breathlessly, for a moment, then began to follow -here and there, wherever a pitiful gray heap lay within possible reach. - -They dragged in a round dozen in this way, bound up their damages as -well as they could with the little rolls of first-aid bandages stitched -inside their tunics, gave them rum and water from their bottles, and -rejoiced exceedingly over them without showing any slightest sign of it. - -All afternoon--and never surely was so long a day since Joshua stayed -the sun while he smote the Amorites at Beth-horon--they lay in their -trench with Death whistling shrilly overhead. They chatted with their -new chums and got points from them, heard what had been doing, and -learned what was to be done. - -And as soon as it was dark they all crept out over the front and -forward, till word came to dig in and hold tight; and they dug for -their lives as they had never dug in their lives before, with bullets -singing over them in clouds, and the much-shelled village burning -furiously on their right. - -It was hot work in every sense of the word and their bottles were -empty. Someone collected an armful and crept along to a farmhouse in -the rear to try for water. He came sprinting back in a moment with word -that the place was full of Germans. - -A guffaw greeted his news as a number of their own kilties came running -out towards them, waving their arms triumphantly. But there was -something about them Ray did not like. They did not somehow look London -Scottish to him. Perhaps it was their unweathered knees. - -“Who are you?” he shouted. - -“Scottish Rifles!”--with an accent that any Scot would have died rather -than use. - -“Down them!” he yelled, and let fly himself, and the ‘Scottish Rifles’ -withered away, some to earth and some into the smoke. - -It was when they were well under cover and were congratulating -themselves on being fairly safe--as things went!--that a burly figure -nearly fell in on top of Ray as he crawled about behind his men. - -“Hello there?” he shouted. - -“London Scottish? You’re to clear out of here and fall back.” - -“What the deuce----” and then a star-shell blazed out in front, and -Ray, raking him with one swift glance from his white knees upwards, -plucked his feet from under him and brought him down into the trench in -a guttural swearing heap. - -“Treacherous devils! There’s no end to their tricks.” - -He fingered the revolver at his belt, but he could not do it so. The -fellow deserved it, but it felt too like murder. - -He kicked the recumbent one up on to his feet. They prodded him over -the parapet in front, and as he started to run a dozen rifles cracked -and he went down. - -These things, and the incessant rain of heavy shells which blew -craters in the earth all about them, began to get on their nerves -somewhat, but especially this masquerading of the enemy in their own -uniform. It produced a feeling of insecurity all round and a diabolical -exasperation. - -If for a second the storm, of which they seemed the centre, lulled, -they heard the terrific din of battle on either side. Heavy fighting -seemed going on all along the line. - -And soon after midnight came their hottest time of all. It looked as -though the enemy had got word where the new raw troops were, and had -decided that that would be the weakest spot, and so hurled his heaviest -weight against them. - -“Here they come! Thousands of ’em!” shouted someone. - -The moon had come out and they could see that it was so. Ray had no -time to think of Lois or anyone else. His whole being was concentrated -on the dark masses rolling up against them. They had got to be stopped. -He had no slightest idea of what depended on it. All he knew was that -they had got to be stopped, though every man of themselves died for it. - -“Steady, boys, and give it them hot,” and they blazed away point blank -into the serried ranks. - -They fell in heaps. The rest wavered and then came on. Ray saw a -furious officer thrashing at them with his sword to urge them forward. -He sighted him as though he had been a pheasant and the furious one -fell. The rest came on--some of them. But the Scottish fire was -excellent. The boys were strung to concert pitch. Flesh and blood could -not stand their record rapid. The dark masses melted away. - -While they were still congratulating themselves a furious fusillade -opened on them from one side,--Maxims, Ray judged,--and almost at the -same moment came a volley from the rear. There seemed to be Germans all -round them. - -“Bayonets! This way, boys!” and he tumbled up out of the trench and -led the way against the assault from the rear. Obviously if they were -surrounded that must be the way out. - -He stumbled on the rough ground and his rifle jerked out of his hand. -The others thought he was done. But it was only a trip and he was up -and off in a moment, leaving his rifle on the ground behind. - -He dashed on unarmed, the others yelling at his heels. In front a row -of Germans was blazing away at them, the moonlight and the flash of the -discharges playing odd tricks with the bristling line of bayonets. - -Ray felt himself horribly naked to assault again. But there was a wild, -insensate rage in his heart against these men who were dropping his -boys as they leaped and yelled behind him. He wanted to tear and rend, -to smash them into the earth, to end them one and all. - -The wavering gleam of the bayonets was deadly close. He had tried to -haul out his revolver as he ran. It was gone--his stumble had jerked it -out of its case and broken the lanyard. But he had not played Rugger -for nothing. - -At the very edge of the bristling line he hurled himself down and under -it along the ground, plucked at the first stolid legs he could grab, -and brought two heavy bodies down on top of him in a surprised and -cursing heap. It helped to break the line too, and the boys were in on -them in a moment, jabbing and stabbing and yelling like fiends out of -the pit. They were all mad just then. It was their first actual taste -of blood at close quarters, and it was very horrible. None of them -cared very much to recall the actual details later on. But it had the -desired effect. Such of the enemy as had any powers of locomotion left -used them, and the panting Scots were for the moment masters of the -field,--but the cost had been heavy. How heavy they did not yet fully -know. - -The machine-gun on their flank had been rushed and was silent. Their -rear seemed clear of the enemy. The Scottish picked up all they could -find in the dark of their wounded and returned to their trench, and -pounded away again at anything that showed in front. This, after the -hot mêlée behind, was child’s play and it gave them time to recover -themselves. - -In the dim light of the dawn they took stock again, grieved silently -over their losses, and set their faces harder than ever to avenge them -if the chance offered. - -And the chance came quickly. All along the front as far as they could -see, the Germans came on again in dense gray masses,--hundreds to one, -they seemed, and the prospect hopeless. There was only one thing to be -done, and that was to make the enemy foot the bill beforehand and to -make it as big a bill as possible. And the clips of cartridges snapped -in merrily, and the gray ones in front went down in swathes, and Ray’s -rifle barrel grew so hot that he flung it aside and looked about for -another. And as he did so, he discovered with a shock that he and his -handful were alone in the trench. The order had come to retire but had -never got their length. - -“Give them blazes, boys!--then follow me!” he shouted, and they gave -them a full minute of extra rapid, and then stooped and scurried along -the trench as fast as they could go. - -Glancing about for cover in the rear, he saw a haystack a hundred yards -away across the open. - -“There you are!” he panted, and started them off one after the other -across the field, and followed himself last of all. - -“Miracles still happen,” he panted again, as they lay flat for breath -behind the stack. “Never thought we’d manage it.” - -Further to the rear were farm buildings and a glimpse of hodden gray -kilts hovering about. So, with a fresh stock of breath, and an amazing -new hope of life, they dashed across one by one, with the bullets -hailing past in sheets and ripping white splinters off a gate they had -to go through. - -How any man got through alive, they never knew. But they did somehow. -Only two men got hit. Ray, last man as a matter of duty, saw young -MacGillivray just in front stagger suddenly and nearly fall. He slipped -his arm through the boy’s with a cheery “Keep up!” and raced him into -safety, and they bound him up so that he could go on. - -The other man got it in the shoulder just as he whirled through the -gate. He made light of it, but they tied him up also and prepared for -the next move. - -For the farm was after all only one stage on the road. There were -Germans all round them, they were told, except for one possible opening -in the rear. And that they instantly took. First, another minute of -rapid-firing by every available man to give the enemy pause, then off -through a wood, across a beet-field on which machine-guns were playing -for all they were worth, across another field of mixed rifle and -machine-gun fire, and so at last to a road up which British troops and -guns and Maxims were racing to thrust a stopper into the gap. - -The Hodden-Grays just tumbled into the ditch behind the guns and -thankfully panted their souls back. They were still alive--some of -them! They could hardly realise it. - -Ray dropped his humming head into his folded arms as he lay full length -on his face. The homely smell of earth and grass was like new life. He -chewed some grass with relish. After the smoke and taste of blood it -was delicious. To be alive after all that! It was amazing--incredible -almost. He thought of Lois and thanked God fervently for them both. - -He did not know what they had done. He only knew that it had been a hot -time and that somehow, by God’s grace, he was still alive. He hoped -they had given a good account of themselves. They had certainly had to -fall back--but in face of such tremendous odds it had been inevitable -and he thought no one could blame them. Anyway they had done their -best. But he felt just a trifle despondent about it all. Falling back -was not a Scottish custom. - -He was sitting by the roadside smoking a cigarette to settle the jumpy -feeling inside him and soothe his ruffled feelings, when the Adjutant -came along. - -“You had a hot time, Luard.” - -“It was a trifle warm. They were too many for us, but we did the best -we could under the circumstances.” - -“You did magnificently. The General said the Scottish had done what two -out of three Regular Battalions would have failed to do. The Staff are -saying they saved the situation last night.” - -“You don’t say so!” said Ray, cocking his bonnet, and feeling five -times the man he was a minute before. “Well, I’m glad they appreciate -us. You can always count on the Scottish doing its level best.” - -And later on came a telegram from Sir John French himself, conveying -his “warmest congratulations and thanks for the fine work you did -yesterday at Messines,”--and saying, “You have given a glorious lead -and example to all Territorial troops who are going to fight in France.” - -So from that point of view all was as well as it possibly could be, and -proud men were they who answered the roll-call at the edge of the wood. -Dishevelled and torn and shaken,--and very sober-faced at the heavy -tale of missing,--but uplifted all the same, with the knowledge that -the record of the old corps had not suffered at their hands. - -They had a few days out of the firing line to let their nerves settle -down and within a week were back in the trenches. - - - - -XXX - - -The news of the London Scottish charge at Messines, and their success -in holding back the enemy at that time and point of terrific pressure, -was made public by the Censor almost at once. And great was the -jubilation at Head-Quarters and throughout the Second Battalion, and -grievous the anxiety in many a home over the tardy casualty lists, for -it was recognised that the losses must necessarily be heavy. - -Lois suffered only one day of acutest mental distress, thanks to Ray’s -precious bits of pencilled notes, three of which--addressed to “Lady -Luard”--arrived all together the day after the news was made known. - -But that one long day taught her to the full what long-drawn agonies -thousands of other anxious hearts must be suffering until all the -details were published. - -Ray’s latest note, scribbled by the roadside just after his elevating -chat with the Adjutant, was very short and very scrawly in its writing. -But it told that he was alive and that was all she cared for. - -“Can’t write much,” he said in it, “for my hand’s got the jumps yet. -We’ve just come through hell and I haven’t a scratch. I live and -marvel. God’s great mercy. They say we’ve done well. It was certainly -hot. Going to have a bit off-time, I believe, and we need it. Keep your -heart up. I can’t imagine anything worse than we’ve come through.” - -Noel and Gregor MacLean swelled visibly with pride in the prowess of -their First Battalion,--so the girls asserted,--and certainly in their -at-length-completed uniforms they looked unusually big and brawny and -ready for anything. - -A draft was preparing for the front to fill up the gaps in the -depleted First, and they enthusiastically put in for it. And, as they -were about the two fittest men in the regiment, thanks to their own -arduous preliminary training, they were accepted, and--again according -to the girls--forthwith became so massive in their own estimation that -it was as much as one’s place was worth for ordinary mortals to venture -to address them. - -But the keenness of the draft for the front could not prevent a certain -heaviness of heart in those at home. The very necessity and the urgency -of the call induced forebodings as to the future. The First Battalion -had made a record. The draft would be emulous to live up to it. Not one -of them, as they helped the happy warriors in their preparations and -kept strong and cheerful faces over it all, but felt that they were -most likely parting with the boys for good, and that when the good-byes -were said they might well be the last ones. - -Mrs Dare especially felt bruised to the heart’s core. Con gone, and -lying wounded somewhere,--and undoubtedly sorely wounded, for they -had never had a line from himself yet. Ray out there in the thick -of it, and any moment might bring word of his death. And now Noel -plunging into the mêlée with a joyous zest such as he had never shown -for anything in life before. And Alma and Lois on the tenterhooks of -ceaseless anxiety. It was a time that kept the women-folk much upon -their knees, and their hearts welled with unuttered prayers as they -went about their daily work. - -A time, however, that was not without its compensations. If anxieties -filled the air, all hearts were opened to one another in amazingly -un-English fashion. Men with whom Mr Dare had had no acquaintance, made -a point of coming up to him and congratulating him on his son-in-law’s -safety in that hot night at Messines. - -They expressed their sympathy in the matter of Con and hoped he -would soon have better news, and spoke admiringly of Noel’s pluck in -volunteering so speedily for the front. - -And everywhere Mrs Dare and Lois and the girls went it was the same. -The frigid angularities of the British character were everywhere broken -down. The touch of common feeling evoked a new spirit of national -kinship. What touched one touched all. But in varying degree. Pleasant -and helpful as it was to experience this new feeling of kindliness and -sympathy in the air, the hearts most vitally affected alone knew how -sorely the war was bruising them. - -But, as Alma said, whenever she could rush away from her patients for -a breath of home, “Work is the only thing to keep one’s thoughts off -one’s troubles, and it doesn’t pay to dwell on them. Here’s another -letter from Robert Grant. He says Con is progressing and hints that -there is a chance of his being exchanged as soon as he can travel. I do -wish we could hear from himself, if it was only just a word. I can’t -help fearing he’s more hurt than Mr Grant tells us.” - -“It’s a great comfort to know that he’s alive, my dear,” said Mrs Dare, -“--when so many have gone for good.” - -“Oh, it is. I assure you I am grateful, Mother. And yet I can’t help -longing for just that one word from himself. If he only signed his -letters even, it would be something.” - -“We must be thankful for the smallest sparing mercy in these days. It -seems incredible that any of them should come back alive when one reads -the accounts of the fighting.” - -“I don’t believe it helps one to read about it,” said Lois, who had sat -listening quietly. - -“I’m sure it doesn’t,” said Alma. “I’m glad to say I have very little -time for reading. On the other hand one cannot help hearing our men -talk about it, and perhaps that’s worse, for they were in the thick of -it and know what they’re talking about. And, oh, if only the slackers -and shirkers at home could hear how the others think of them! Their -ears would tingle red for the rest of their lives. You hear pretty -regularly from Ray, Lo?” - -“Every two or three days. I’ll get you his last ones,” and she slipped -quietly away. - -“She is on the rack too,” said Mrs Dare with a sigh. “Any day may bring -us ill news. I dread the postman’s ring. And in a few days Noel will be -in it too. It’s hard on those who sit at home and wait.” - -“But the boys are just splendid,” said Alma cheerfully. “They’re doing -their duty nobly. Just think how you, and we all, would have felt if -Noel had kept out of it. Why, we couldn’t have held our heads up, -Mother, and you know it.” - -“I know,” nodded Mrs Dare. “I try to look at it that way, but the other -side will insist on being looked at also.” - -“If any of them never come back,--well, we know that they will be -infinitely better off. They will have attained the very highest. No -man can do more than give his life for his country, and these boys are -giving themselves splendidly. I tell you my heart is in my throat at -thought of it all whenever I meet a regiment in the street. I could -cheer and cry at the same time. They are splendid!--splendid!--and -you can see in their eyes and faces that they understand. War is very -terrible, Mother, but I cannot help feeling that as a people we are on -a higher level than we were six months ago. There’s a new and nobler -spirit abroad.” - -“To think--that it had to come in such a way!” - -“That is one of the mysteries.” - -Lois came quietly in with her precious letters. - -“I envy you, dear,” said Alma, when she had read them. “Just one little -precious scrawl like those would be worth more to me than all Mr -Grant’s letters, glad as I am to get them.” - -“But you know Con is safe,” said Lois softly. - -“I have Mr Grant’s word for it, but I don’t know him from Adam. All -I’ve been able to learn is that he was an R.A.M.C. man and was taken at -the same time as Con. He is not a doctor, just one of the helpers.” - -“I think I would be glad to have Ray wounded and a prisoner--if it -wasn’t very bad,” said Lois. “Though I’m sure he wouldn’t like to know -I feel like that.” - -“And I----” began Mrs Dare. “No, it’s no good talking about it,” and -then almost in spite of herself, she said what was in her mind. “I -really cannot help feeling that if--if the worst had to come to any -of them, it would be better to be killed outright than shattered and -useless for life. Oh, it is terrible to think of. And so many will -be----” - -“I would sooner have them back in pieces than not at all,” said Lois -quickly. - -“So would I,” said Alma. “Half a man is better than no man when he’s -all you’ve got. Especially when the other half has been given to his -country. No, indeed! Let us get back all we can and be thankful.” - -They were kept very busy at Oakdene with their wounded. In search of -extra help Mrs Dare had sent for Mrs Skirrow. But Mrs Skirrow had risen -on the wings of the storm. - -She came, indeed, but it was only to explain why she could not come as -formerly. - -“You see, mum, I got me ’ands as full as they’ll ’old at present. When -I heard they was goin’ to billet some o’ the boys in Willstead, I says -to myself, ‘That’s your ticket, Thirza Skirrow. Billeting’s your job. -You’re a born billeter.’ So I did up my place a bit, and made it all -nice an’ tidy and clean as a new pin. An’ I got four of ’em. Big lads -too an’ they eats a goodish lot. But we get on together like a house -afire. They calls me ‘Mother,’ an’ I makes thirty bob a week and me -keep off ’em, and feeds ’em well too. It’s better’n charing an’ more to -me taste, and it’s helping King and Country. An’ for me, I don’t mind -how long it lasts.” - -“I’m glad you’ve been so sensible,” said Mrs Dare. “Perhaps you know of -someone else who could lend us a hand?” - -“Know of plenty that’s needing it,--spite o’ the money they’re drawin’ -from Government. But most o’ them that could if they would’s too -happy boozing in the pubs to do anything else. I’ll try and find you -someone, mum, an’ if I can I’ll send her along--or bring her by the -scruff.” - -“I hope you have good news of your own boys and Mr Skirrow.” - -“Never a blessed word, mum, not since they left. They’ll be all right, -I reckon, or I’d heard about it. We’re not a family that worries much -so long as things is goin’ right. They’ll look after themselves out -there, wherever they are. And I’m doin’ me little bit at ’ome and quite -’appy, thank ye, mum!” and Mrs Skirrow, looking very solidly contented -with life, sailed away to buy in for her boys, and round up some help -for Mrs Dare if she could lay hands on it. - -Out of that came the idea--already essayed in other parts of the -country--of opening rooms where the wives of the men who had gone to -the front could meet and talk, and spend their spare time in better -surroundings than the public-houses offered. And another channel for -helpful ministry, and another distraction from brooding thought, was -opened to them. - -The boys were waiting in hourly expectation of orders to proceed to -the front, in the highest of spirits, and with a gusto not entirely -explicable to their womankind. By processes of severe elimination they -had reduced their absolutely necessary baggage to official requirements -and the restricted proportions of their new stiff green-webbing -knapsacks. They were now going up and down each day in full campaigning -kit, and looked, as Noel said, like blooming Father Christmases, so -slung about were they with bulging impedimenta of all kinds. They -looked bigger and burlier than ever,--‘absolutely massive,’ said Honor. - -Then at last the call came. They were to parade at Head-Quarters and -remain there ready to go on at a moment’s notice. - -Farewells to the elders were said at home. Neither Mrs Dare nor Mrs -MacLean would venture on them in public. Lois knew what it would be -like, having been through it already, and she stayed with them. Auntie -Mitt wept unashamedly, though she pretended it was only the beginning -of a cold. And when they had gone, all four shut themselves up for a -space in their bedrooms and betook themselves to their knees. - -Honor and Vic, however, went up with them to Head-Quarters, to see the -impression they created in the trains with such loads on their backs, -to share in their reflected glory, and to delay the parting by that -much. - -And the impression was highly satisfactory to all concerned. For all -minds were full still of the gallant work of the First Battalion at -Messines, and all knew that these young stalwarts were off presently to -fill the gaps. Appreciative glances followed their bumping progression -in and out of trains and stations, and the girls really felt it an -honour to be in such high company. - -At Head-Quarters they--being connected with the draft--were admitted to -the floor of the house and found themselves in a bewildering maelstrom -of circulating Scots. - -“I never saw so many bare knees in all my life,” whispered Vic. - -“Aren’t they all splendid?” said Honor, sparkling all over, but not -referring entirely to brawny knees. - -And splendid they were, though there were many eyes that saw them -but mistily--whereby they doubtless looked more splendid still. And -obtrusive lumps had to be forcibly choked down many throats, as fathers -and mothers, and sisters and other fellows’ sisters, tried their best -to keep brave and cheerful faces while they watched--knowing only too -well that they might be looking for the last time on the clear fresh -faces and bright eyes and stalwart forms. - -It was dreadful to think that within a day or two these eager -upstanding boys, with their swinging kilts and cocked bonnets and -cheery looks, might be lying stiff and stark, rent into bloody -fragments by German shells. It did not do to think of it. - -Honor and Vic went up into the gallery and watched the multifarious -crowd below. - -“It makes me think of one of those colonies of ants you buy at Gamage’s -in a glass case at Christmas,” murmured Vic. “I had one once, but the -glass got broken and they all got out and got lost.... I suppose they -all know what they’re supposed to be doing, but they’re awfully like -those ants pushing about every which way----” - -“They’ll get out soon. But I hope they’ll not get lost,” said Honor, -with a glimpse of the chill foreboding. - -“Do you know, Nor, those boys walk quite differently since they got -their kilts,” said Vic, as they watched their two down below. - -“I know. They fling out their toes with a kind of free kick as though -the world was at their feet. See that man--he does it beautifully. He’s -a sergeant or something. He looks as if he’d done it all his life.” - -“It’s rather like the way cats walk on wet grass,” said Vic. - -And then, suddenly, sharp words of command down below,--the floor -cleared as if by magic of all but the draft for the front, and they -formed up in two long lines, and a General came along and inspected -them and said a few cheery words to them. - -The girls thrilled at the general silence, the concentration on the -draft. They watched their two absorbedly, and to both it came right -home with almost overwhelming force that the parting that was upon them -might well be the final one. They would march proudly away with their -swinging kilts and skirling pipes, and then--they might never see them -again. - -“Look at their faces!” whispered Honor. “Are those two really our boys?” - -“They’re ours right enough. That’s their fighting-face. They’re -splendid.” - -More words of command, they formed up in fours, the big doors swung -open, the pipes shrilled a merry tune, and with heavy tread of ordered -feet they passed out into the gray November day. - -“Are they going?” gasped Honor, and turned to follow. - -“Only to Central Hall,” said a Second Battalion man who was leaning -on the rail alongside them. “They’re to come back here for lunch -presently. They’ll go on later,--that is if they go on to-day at all. -Somebody was saying the transports aren’t ready.” - -“They say there’s a German submarine dodging about the Channel waiting -for them,” said another next to him. - -“This place breeds a fresh rumour every five minutes on an average. -You’re never sure of anything till it’s happened.” - -So the girls waited hopefully, and criticised the setting of the tables -down below by obviously ’prentice hands; and in due course they were -rewarded by the draft marching in again, without kits this time, and -they all sat down at the tables and ate and drank in apparently jovial -humour. - -But to the girls, subdued in spirit somewhat by the pertinacious -intrusion of the future possibilities which took advantage of this -long-drawn farewell, the rough-and-ready banquet had in it something of -the solemn and portentous,--something indeed of a sacrament, though the -apparently jovial ones down below did not seem to regard it so. It was -a farewell feast. It was hardly possible that all those stalwart diners -would return. And as their eyes wandered over them, returning oftenest -to their own two, they wondered who would be taken,--who left to return -to them. - -“I couldn’t eat to save my life,” said Vic. - -“Nor I. And I don’t believe they’re eating much either. They’re just -pretending to.” - -When the feasting was over the place became a maelstrom again, with -much hearty wringing of hands, and good lucks, and good wishes, and -parting gifts of plethoric boxes of matches and cigars and cigarettes. -And then they were all formed up into two long lines again, and the -girls sped down the narrow stone staircases to be near them at the last. - -They were just in time to march alongside their own two as far as the -Central Hall, but it was only when the hodden-gray mass was slowly -making its way down the dark stairway that they had the chance to speak. - -“We’ve got to sleep in this hole to-night, they say,” said Noel. -“Rotten!” - -“When do you think you’ll go?” asked Honor. - -“Dear knows. We never know anything till we’re doing it.” - -“We shall come up in the morning to see if you’re still here.” - -“That’ll be nice. But don’t bother!” - -“We may be here for days,” said Gregor. “We’ve got used to hanging on -and waiting orders. It’s the weariest part of the work.” - -“Well, we’ll keep on coming up till you go. We’d like to see the last -of them, wouldn’t we, Vic?--I mean,” with a quick little catch of the -breath that nearly choked her, “the last till you come back.” - -“Rather! You see, we wouldn’t be sure you really had gone unless we saw -it with our own eyes.” - -“Think we’d bolt?--Or want to get rid of us?” grinned Noel. - -“Oh--neither. Just to know, you know.” - -And then the boys had to go below, and the girls went away home, and -hardly spoke a word all the way. - -They went up again next day and found the draft still standing-by in -huge disgust at the delay. - -And again the next day--and the next,--and the next; and each time -found the boys growling louder and deeper. - -“Got us out of Head-Quarters and forgotten us, the bally idiots!” -was Noel’s opinion. “You might just trot round and ask ’em what they -jolly well mean by it. Tell ’em we’re not going to put up with it much -longer.” - -“All going to desert for a change,” said Gregor. “It’s a sight harder -work than fighting.” - -Then one morning when the girls arrived at the Hall it was lonely and -deserted. The draft had gone. - -“Just as well, maybe,” said Honor philosophically, when she had got -her face quite straight again. “I believe I should have cried at the -last, and I hate crying in public.” - -“Crying’s no good,” said Vic valiantly. “I’m glad they’re away at last. -It was beginning to tell on all of us.” - - - - -XXXI - - -For a week after that hot night at Messines the Hodden-Grays had a -fairly easy time, and they deserved and needed it. - -They marched back to Bailleul and found billets in the farmhouses round -about, and there they had the chance to clean up and refit, to recover -themselves generally, and to grieve over their heavy losses,--though -you would not have thought it, perhaps, by the look of them. - -Simply to be sleeping once more beyond the reach of sudden death was a -mental tonic, and its effects showed quickly in a universal bracing up -to concert-pitch and anything more that might be required of them. - -The pressure on their special front was still heavy and continuous, -however, and the end of the week’s holiday saw them back in the -fighting-line, with their hearts set dourly on paying back some of the -heavy score if opportunity offered. - -They were moved from point to point, but finally settled down in a -wood, the trees of which, so much as was left of them, told their own -grim story of fiery flagellations. The German trenches were in the same -wood about three hundred yards away but were invisible on account of -fallen tree-tops and branches. - -There Ray’s company remained for five whole days, shelled incessantly -and so harassed with attacks between times that rest was impossible, -and through sheer strain and weariness their nerves came nigh to -snapping. But they held tight and slogged on, and longed for relief and -a heavenly night’s rest out of the sound and feel of bursting shells. - -Even well-seasoned regulars--and they had a very crack battalion on -their left--found it overmuch of a bad thing, and some got ‘batty -in the brain-pan,’ as Ray put it in his letters to Lois, and had -to be sent back to hospital. It was amazing that men accustomed to -experiences so different could stand it. But they did, and held their -own with the best, and suffered much. - -The weather was horrible. Some days it poured without ceasing. At night -the rain turned to hail, and they had fierce gales which brought the -remnants of the wood down on their heads, so that between whirling hail -and falling branches they could not see five yards ahead. They were -soaked to the skin and chilled to the bone all day and all night, and -the only thing that kept them alive was the incessant attacks of the -German hordes which had to be beaten back at any price,--and were. - -But it was bitter hard work and only possible by reason of urgent and -final necessity. Never were more grateful men on this earth when at -last the reliefs came up, and they trudged off through nine inches of -mud to a village in the rear where they got hot tea,--the first hot -thing they had had for a week. - -Then followed a short spell in the reserve trenches, which were full of -water and still subject to shell-fire, but just a degree less racking -than the actual fighting-line in as much as the enemy could not get at -them without ample warning. - -Still, they were ‘standing-by’ all the time, ready to supplement the -front at any moment, so there was little rest and constant strain. They -dozed at times, sitting in the mud and more than half frozen with the -bitter cold. Their sopping clothing stuck clammily to their chilled -skins. They dreamed of beds and hot baths, and now and again they fed -on bully beef and bread and jam, washed down with hot tea laced with -rum, and blessed the commissariat which did its level best for them -under very trying circumstances. - -Then at last,--since human nature can stand only a certain considerable -amount of affliction without being the worse for it, and they had done -their utmost duty and had about reached the limit--they were ordered -to the rear for a proper rest, and right gladly they took the muddy -road and left the sound of the guns behind them. - -There followed a few days of recuperative rest, interrupted only, but -more than once, by orders to ‘stand-by’ to reinforce the front, which -was enduring much tribulation from overwhelming odds. The front held -firm, however, and their tension relaxed again. - -They cleaned themselves up and did some parades and route marches to -keep their muscles from cramping, and then, one heavenly day, Ray, -hearing that the officers of other battalions were getting short leave -for home, put in for the same, and got it, and twelve hours later -walked up the drive at Oakdene and Lois rushed out and flung herself -into his arms. - - - - -XXXII - - -What a home-coming that was! - -They counted him almost as one returned from the dead, and Mrs Dare and -Lois could hardly let him out of their sight for a moment. He was gift -of the gods and prized accordingly. - -And they talked and talked, though of course it was Ray who did most -of the talking, and held them spell-bound and shivering with the mere -telling of the things he had seen. - -Auntie Mitt suspended her work to gaze at him with eyes like little -saucers, and finally expressed the opinion that it sounded worse even -than the Crimea. - -“And you saw nothing of the boys?” asked Honor disappointedly. - -“They hadn’t arrived when I left. General opinion is that they’ve got -mislaid en route, but they’ll probably have turned up by the time I get -back. We’re needing them badly to make up our strength. Losses were -very heavy at Messines, and there’s a certain wastage going on all the -time, of course.” - -“Wastage indeed!” sighed Mrs Dare, thinking of her own. “You speak as -if they were no more than goods and chattels, Ray. Every wasted one -means a sore sore heart at home.” - -“I know, Mother dear. One gets to speak of it so. War is horribly -callousing. If it were not no man could stick it out. But we think of -them differently, I assure you, and nothing is left undone that we can -do for them. You’ve heard from the boys, of course.” - -“We’ve had several letters, just hasty scraps----” - -“That’s all one has time for, and we’re not allowed to say much, you -see.” - -“How long can it possibly go on, do you think?” - -“I can’t imagine how it’s ever going to come to an end. You see they’re -dug in and we’re dug in, and neither of us can make any advance. Seems -to me an absolute stalemate and as if it might go on so for ever.” - -“How awful to think of!” said Vic. “Can’t you get round them somehow -and turn them out of their holes?” - -“We haven’t a quarter enough men. That’s why it’s been so rough on -those that were there. We can beat them at fighting any day, even at -three to one odds, but they outnumber us many times more than that. -How’s Kitchener’s new lot getting on?” - -“They’ve come in splendidly, and they’re working hard and look very -fit--those that have got their uniforms. The rest look like convicts, -but they’ll be all right when they’re decently dressed.” - -“Well, I tell you,--we want every man of them, and as quickly as -possible. Our long thin line is terribly pressed, and our losses are -heavier in consequence. It’s rough on the nerves, you see. One day in -and one day out of the trenches would be all right. But five days and -nights on end is a bit tough. Lots have been invalided home almost -dotty with the strain.” - -He had a great time and savoured every second of it. He had hot baths -till he felt respectable, and got a cold in the head as a consequence, -and went up and had a Turkish bath in town and thought of the icy water -of the trenches as he sat in the hottest room. - -He went up to Head-Quarters, and saw the new chiefs there and some old -chums who had been unable for various good reasons to go out with the -rest. - -But most of his time he spent with Lois--golden hours which both felt -might possibly be the last. - -Three days later he was back at Brigade Head-Quarters, and one of the -first things he saw was Noel Dare kicking a fine goal in a game of -soccer, Draft _v._ Veterans, and Gregor MacLean, who was better at golf -than at footer, cheering him for all he was worth. - -They all three forgathered when the game was over and the crowd had -finished booing the referee, and Noel, in the pride of his goal and -brimful of youthful eagerness, broke out, “I say, Sir Raglan, can’t -you get them to get a move on? We chaps came out to fight and we’ve -done nothing yet but play footer and route-march. It’s almost as bad as -being at home.” - -“You wait till you get five days and nights in the trenches, my son, -with water up to your knees and the rest of you nothing but mud, and -you’ll be wishing you were back here having a holiday.” - -“Bet you I won’t! We’re just aching to have a slap at those beastly -Boches, aren’t we, Greg?” - -“Rather!--Sickening, hanging about round here.” - -“You’ll find war’s mostly hanging about round somewhere, with an -occasional scrap thrown in, and overmany shells all the time. You get -used to them, of course, but you’ll come to be grateful to get away -from the sound of them for a bit.” - -“Everybody all right at home?” asked Noel. “Suppose you got a sight of -them!” - -“Yes, I got all the sight of them I could cram into the time. They were -all first rate, but full of anxieties for all of us. I suppose you -write now and again.” - -“Oh, occasionally. But you see there’s really been nothing to tell them -so far.” - -“You can’t write often enough to please your mothers. They’re feeling -it sorely.” - -The days dragged on and found them still ‘fooling about,’ as Noel put -it,--footer, route-marches, parades, alarm-parades, church-parades, -an occasional sudden order to ‘stand-by’ in case of need, now and -again a bit of musketry-drill, and some educational manœuvering and -trench-digging. But it was all very far short of what the fire-eating -newcomers had looked forward to, and strung themselves up to, and felt -very much let down through the lack of. - -Then they heard the King was coming to have a look at them, and they -were set to scraping a foot or so of the surface mud off the road so -that his motor should be able to get through somehow. - -And they did it merrily enough. It was a change anyway and all in the -day’s work. But, said Noel, - -“Hanged if I ever expected to get down to road-scraping. I feel like -one of the old duffers that pretend to sweep the roads at home, with -W.U.C. in brass letters on their caps, and mouch about most of the time -with their brooms over their shoulders.” - -The King duly came and went, which passed one day, and they had more -drills, new double-company drills, more route-marches, more parades, -and came at last to doubt if any real fighting was to the fore at all. - -The news of Admiral Sturdee’s sinking of the German Fleet off the -Falklands cheered them up, and later on came word of the bombardment of -Scarborough and Whitby, and they were inclined to think that would help -Kitchener in his recruiting. - -It rained most days and they got accustomed to the constant living -in wet clothes. And rumour, as of old, had fine times of it--a fresh -’cert’ each day, but the most persistent and long-lived that they were -presently to go to Egypt;--at which Master Noel growled, “Rotten luck!” - -They were constantly ‘standing-by,’ hopeful that it meant business at -last, but the order was always cancelled and they stayed where they -were. - -Then, right in the middle of a game of footer, peremptory orders came -and they were really off at last, full of fight and jubilant at the -prospect of fresh fame for the Battalion in the near future. - -And presently Noel and Gregor found themselves in a real -fighting-trench, with mud and water almost up to their knees, and the -roaring of big guns and the rattle of musketry somewhere on in front. - -It was a reserve trench, and between them and the enemy the front line -men were doing their best to retake a trench that had been lost, and -behind them were several companies in support, so that the new men -were as yet in no great danger. - -They felt terribly warlike and anxious to get at them. Huge shells came -hurtling through the darkness and exploded all too close, with terrific -noises and ghastly blasts of lightning. - -“Bully!” jerked Noel, with his teeth set tight. “Bit of the real thing -at last, old Greg! Wonder when we do anything?” - -“It’s dam damp to the feet,” said Gregor. “I’d jolly well like a run to -get warm.” - -There was no chance of a run just then, but presently they were all -ordered out into the open to dig a new trench, and the Germans sent up -star-shells and found them out and gave it them hot. - -Bullets pinged past them and over them like clouds of venomous insects -swept along by a gale. Shrapnel burst with vicious claps over their -heads. Life seemed impossible and yet to their surprise they lived, -and, whatever their private feelings, the new men stuck valiantly to -their work and dug for dear life. - -Noel and Gregor were alongside one another delving like navvies, while -sweat and shivers chased one another up and down their backs which felt -horribly naked to damage. - -“Keep as low as you can, boys,” was their lieutenant’s order, as he -paced the line behind, preaching better than he practised. - -“Navvies,” jerked Noel, through his teeth to Gregor, so strung up -with it all that he must speak or burst. “Just jolly old navvies and -grave-diggers and road-scrapers! That’s what we are, my son.” - -And then--a gasp alongside him, and a groan, and Gregor was down. - -“Greg, old man! What’s it?” and he was down on his knees beside him. -But Gregor did not speak. - -Noel rose and hauled him up into his arms and began to stagger back -with his burden towards the rear. A machine-gun somewhere on the flank -opened on them. A hail of bullets swept into them. They both went down -with a crash. - -“Stretchers here!” shouted the lieutenant, and then fell himself in a -crumpled heap. - - * * * * * - -Let Ray’s letter tell the rest. - -Lois had rushed to meet the postman, as they used to do at The Red -House, but never so eagerly as now. - -He handed her the letters with a grin. He wished all the houses he -went to had a similar practice. It made him feel himself a universal -benefactor. - -It was sleeting and the letters were sprinkled with drops--like tears. -Lois picked out her own special, tossed the rest--none of which were of -the slightest consequence compared with this one--onto the table in the -breakfast-room and sped upstairs. She always read Ray’s letters first -in sanctuary. - -She sliced it open very neatly, for even envelopes from the front -were precious. And then as she glanced over it, with eyes trained and -quickened to the vitalities, her face blanched and her lips tightened, -and then the tears streamed down without restraint. - - “LOIS DEAREST, - - I have bad news for you, but you will bear it bravely and help - the mothers. Our two dear lads are gone. They were doing their - duty nobly and their end was quick and I believe painless,--a - grand death for any man to die. - - They were trenching at the front on Tuesday night with the - rest. The Germans located them in the dark by star-shells - and directed a heavy fire on them. I was sent to order them - to withdraw as the enemy had crept up on the flank with - machine-guns. I met bearer-parties coming in and they said - casualties were pretty heavy. One stretcher I passed as I - returned had two bodies on it, and one of the bearers explained - that they found them locked together like that. ‘This one - had been trying to carry the other, I reckon,’ he said, and I - flicked my torch on them and found to my great grief that it - was Noel and Gregor. Gregor had been shot dead and Noel had - evidently been trying to get him to the rear. - - “We may not mourn overmuch. It is hard to lose the boys but it - was a grand death to die. Gregor died for his country. Noel - died for his friend as well. - - Break it to the mothers. It will be a sad task, but tell them - how bravely the boys did their part. They were always cheerful - and happy--anxious only to get to the real work for which they - had prepared themselves so well. - - I am very well and fit and have not had a scratch so far. God - be thanked, for both our sakes!...” - - * * * * * - -Break it to the mothers! What a task for any girl! - -She fell on her knees by the bed and buried her streaming face in her -hands, and prayed for help for them all and especially for the mothers. - -Her own mother, she knew, would bear it bravely. She had many left. But -poor Mrs MacLean!--her only one!--her all! And she ageing and frail. - -And Honor! Oh, Death cut wide swathes in these times. It would be very -sad for Honor. She would get over it in time, no doubt. She was young. -But now it would darken her life and leave a terrible blank in it. - -And Vic! She was not quite sure if there had been anything between Vic -and Noel. She had imagined the possibility at times. Oh, Death was -cruel, and War was hateful and horrible. - -These dear boys, with no ill-feeling for anyone--done to their deaths -by the evil machinations of the war-makers! In the depth of her sorrow -her anger burned. She prayed God vehemently to requite it in full to -those who had brought all these horrors on the world for their own evil -ends. - -But nothing would bring back their boys. And upon her lay the dreadful -task of breaking the news to the rest. She prayed now for strength and -guidance, and they were given to her. - -She got up and bathed her face and eyes, and went downstairs. - -Vic met her expectantly. - -“Any news, Lo?... Why--what is it?” at sight of her eyes, which swam in -spite of herself. - -“Very bad news, dear. Come in here,--to the library,” and she closed -the door behind them. - -“Noel and Gregor,” she said, with a break in her voice--“They are both -gone----” - -“Oh, Lo!”--with a sharp agony which Lois understood. “Not both!” - -“Yes, dear, both. It is terrible, but you must help us to bear it.” - -Vic gave her one woeful glance, which haunted her for months, and then -put her arms round her neck and broke into sobs. “Oh, Lo! Lo!” and -Lois put her arms round her understandingly and patted her soothingly. -No further word was said between them, and presently Vic disengaged -herself and bowed her head and ran up to her room. - -Lois just told the news to Auntie Mitt, whose old face worked and -broke, and then, slipping on her Loden cloak with the hood over her -head, she went across to The Red House. - -They knew in a moment by the sight of her face that she brought bad -news. Mrs Dare had all along, while relaxing nothing of her faith and -hope, been prepared for such. Many times a day she had said to herself, -“How is it possible that they can come back alive out of such horrors? -God’s will be done!” - -Now she asked quickly, “Who is it, dear?”--as one who was prepared. - -“It is the boys, Mother dear.” - -“Not both?” with a gasp in spite of herself. - -“Both,” said Lois sadly, and dared not look at Honor, who sat rigid -and stricken. “I will read you Ray’s letter.” - -“Ray is safe?” - -“Thank God, he is safe--so far,” and she read them his letter. - -When it was all told, Mrs Dare gave a great sigh as though part of her -very life had gone out of her. - -“The--poor--dear--lads!” she said softly. - -“We must remember that they are infinitely better off, Mother dear,” -said Lois quietly. “They did their duty and they died nobly.” - -Mrs Dare sighed again. “I did not think it possible they could all come -back. How could we expect it when so many are gone? But--oh, how we -shall miss them!--the dear lads!--the dear lads!” - -“Who will break it to Mrs MacLean?” said Honor, in a low, strained -voice tremulous with tears. “It will be terrible for her!” - -“Perhaps I had better go,” said Lois. “But it will be very trying----” - -“I think I will go, Lo,” said Honor, very quietly but very firmly. “He -was very dear to me too. We must comfort one another.” - -“Can you stand it, Nor, dear?” - -“Yes, I can stand it. We’ve all got to stand it. You will lend me Ray’s -letter? I will be very careful of it,” and Lois handed it to her. - -“She is very brave,” said Lois, when Honor had gone off to put on her -things. “I don’t think I could bear it so well if Ray were taken from -me. Oh, Mother, how terrible it all is! It all seems like a horrible -nightmare. I stand and ask myself sometimes--‘Is it real? Is this -really Christmas of 1914,--or shall I wake presently and find it all an -evil dream?’” - -“Ah--if it only were!” said Mrs Dare, with the tears running unheeded -down her cheeks. “We must try to bear it as bravely as Honor does. It -will be a great blow to your father too. But we have forecasted it. It -seemed impossible that all of them should come back to us....” - -They heard the front door close quietly as Honor let herself out. - -“... My heart is very sore for Gregor’s mother,” she said softly. “He -was all she had. I am still rich. She loses all. But if anyone can -comfort her it is Honor.” - -“And to think--that a million, perhaps many million, women are feeling -as we are, and suffering as we are--and all because of a little handful -of evil ambitious men! Mother,--it is terrible that any men should have -such evil power. I cannot help wishing they may suffer in their turn. -But they can never suffer enough.” - -“They will suffer,” said Mrs Dare quietly. “Since God is a just God. We -may leave them to Him, dear,--and trust the outcome to Him too.... It -is sad to think of our dear lad cut off so soon. But--I have thought -much in the night, when I could not sleep for thinking of them all,--he -is better so, Lois, than growing up like some we know. Oh, far better -so.” - -“Yes, indeed, dear!”--It was good, she felt, for her mother to talk. -She would have all the rest of her life for thinking. - -“Your father was telling me, a night or two ago, how he came down in -the train with young Nemmowe,--you know,--of ‘The Hollies.’ He had been -drinking, but he was not drunk--only assertive. Someone in the carriage -asked him when he was going to the front. And he chuckled and said, -‘Not me! Not my line at all. I’m a man of peace. Besides we’ve got too -much on. Can’t spare me at this end.’ They’re big army contractors, you -know, and are making a huge fortune out of the war, it is said. And the -man who had asked him, said, ‘If I was as young as you, and as strong -as you, I’d sooner die out there ten times over than stop rotting here. -If England came to grief you’d wring a profit out of it some way, I -presume.’ And the Nemmowe boy laughed and said, ‘Shouldn’t wonder if -you’d like some of the pickings yourself.’ And since then no one will -pass a word with him. Better to be lying dead in French soil than like -that, dear.” - -“Far, far better, Mother dear. It is well with our boys. But--oh, it is -sad to have them go! And any day Ray may be with them,” and she fell on -her knees and laid her head in her mother’s lap as she had done when a -child. - -“It is in God’s hands,” said her mother, gently stroking her hair. -“But, thanks be to Him, our boys are proving themselves men.” - - - - -XXXIII - - -Honor walked quickly, with bent head to keep the sleet out of her -eyes. She despised umbrellas and enjoyed braving the weather, when -circumstances permitted her, as now, to wear a knitted toque and a -rainproof. The bite of the sleet was in accord with her feelings. She -would have liked to tramp against it for hours. - -Noel gone! Gregor gone! It seemed incredible. Those two dear boys so -full of bounding life and energy. Gone!--lying dead and cold under the -French mud. She could not quite realise it yet. She felt numbed with -the shock of it. Dead! Never to return to them! Never to see them in -this life again! Oh, Gregor, Gregor! - -But she must be brave, for, just across the Common there, was Gregor’s -mother in happy unconsciousness of the blow that had befallen them. Oh, -it would hurt her. It would bruise her. It might break her. She, Honor, -must be brave and strong and help her to bear it. - -And as she breasted the wind, and the sleet bit at her face, her mind -began to work again with acute clarity of understanding. It carried her -above herself. She saw--as though scales had fallen from the eyes of -her spirit--that this fearsome Death which seemed so dreadful was not -the end but the beginning. Their boys were possibly--probably--nearer -to them even than they had been in life. The dear bodies might be lying -there in France, but all that had been really _them_ was living still -and might be--would be, she thought, watching them now, near at hand, -nearer than ever before. - -So full was her mind of the thought that she actually found herself -glancing upwards into the sleety sky as if she might catch sight of -them. - -There was only gray sky and whirling sleet up there, but the belief was -strong in her and she went on comforted. - -The maid greeted her with her usual bright smile, and helped her off -with her dripping coat. They all knew how things stood between Mr -Gregor and her and cordially approved. - -“Is Mrs MacLean down yet, Maggie?” she asked. - -“Not yet, Miss Honor. She was feeling the cold, so she said she would -have her breakfast in bed,”--as she showed her into the morning-room at -the back, where a wood fire was burning brightly with cheerful hissings -and spittings and puffs of smoke, and everything spoke of comfort and -the quiet joy of life. - -“Will you please ask her if I can see her at once, Maggie?” - -“Yes, Miss Honor. Not bad news, I do hope, Miss,” but she knew that it -was, for Honor’s face was tragic in spite of herself. - -“Don’t hint it, Maggie. Just tell her I must see her,” and Maggie went -quietly, as though she savoured the coming news already. - -A table with newspapers and books and magazines was drawn up near the -fire alongside Mrs MacLean’s favourite chair. On it was a photograph of -Gregor in his uniform, in a massive silver frame. He looked bravely out -at her. Just his own dear look as she knew him best. Quiet, reserved, -but with the smiles just below and ready to break through on smallest -provocation. - -And it was all over. He was gone,--lying under the blood-stained soil -across there. No,--she was to remember--he was more alive than ever, -nearer to them than ever,--but--ah me!--they would never see him again -on this side. - -She was still bending over the photograph when Maggie came in, with a -quiet, “Will you please to come up, Miss Honor?” - -She turned the handle of the bed-room door, with her eyes anxiously -seeking the extent of the news in Honor’s face. And Honor went into the -room. - -It was a full hour before she came out again. What had passed was -between them and God. We may not trespass. - -But her face had lost and gained in that hour inside with Gregor’s -mother, and her eyes were red with weeping. - -Maggie had been dusting within earshot of that door ever since it -closed. She came now to meet Honor, and they went into the morning-room -together. - -“Is he wounded, Miss Honor?” she asked anxiously. - -“He is dead, Maggie,--” and there was a sob in her voice as she said -it. “And my brother also. They died together,” and Maggie burst into -tears and nearly choked with the effort to do it quietly. - -“Oh, Miss Honor!--Dead!--and him so fine and strong and only just got -there! Oh, Miss!--And the mistress? Is she--will it----” - -“I am going home now to get some things, and then I am coming back to -stay with her for a time. She wishes it, and it will comfort her.” - -“And your poor mother too----” - -“It is very terrible for us all, but worst of all for Mrs MacLean. He -was all she had. We must all do what we can to comfort her. They died -splendidly, one helping the other. And Ray says it was instantaneous -and so they did not suffer. Tell the others, Maggie, and don’t any of -you give way--more than you can help--before Mrs MacLean.” - -“We’ll do our best, Miss Honor, but it’ll no be easy. It’s too awful,” -and Honor passed out into the sleety morning. - -Mrs Dare quite understood and fully approved. Her old friend’s need was -greater than her own. She gave Honor loving words for her right out of -her heart, helped her to get ready the things she must take back with -her, and promised to come over to see Mrs MacLean very shortly, when -the freshness of their wounds should have had a little time to heal. - -Mr Dare’s grief was great when he came home that night to such -news. But, like his wife, he had forecasted the possibility, and as -they talked together of their boy, he said again, “Better so, dear, -than growing up like some one knows--like that Nemmowe fellow for -instance.... He did all he could and no man could do more.” - -“He would never have turned out like young Nemmowe,” said Mrs Dare -confidently. - -“I don’t believe he would, seeing that he was your boy.” - -Lois came over while they were still quietly talking of it all, and she -brought with her a suggestion that made for their comfort all round. - -In Honor’s absence Mr and Mrs Dare would find The Red House very empty, -whereas for want of room at Oakdene they had reluctantly been compelled -to refuse several fresh patients lately. So Lois’s idea was to transfer -herself and Vic and Auntie Mitt, if she would come, to The Red House -and so form a more complete family party there. They could then leave -Oakdene entirely to their guests and the nursing staff, and could still -do their own part in the way of providing and superintendence from next -door. - -“These trying times make one inclined to draw closer together,” she -urged, and it seemed to them good, and the matter was decided on. - -Vic, usually so light-hearted and full of talk, had become the silent -member of the household. She had suffered a sore wound, and it was the -harder to bear because it was more or less of a hidden wound and not to -be spoken of or sympathised with. - -She went for days like a stricken thing, scarcely speaking to any of -them and preferring solitude. Then Mrs Dare ventured on her privacy and -got her to talk about Noel, and they cried together over their loss and -both felt the better for it. And presently she and Mrs Dare went across -to see Mrs MacLean and Honor, and in their efforts to cheer and comfort -Gregor’s mother they found some consolation themselves. - -Mrs MacLean begged so anxiously to be allowed to keep Honor with her -still that Mrs Dare could not find in her heart to say no. They were -like mother and daughter, and Mrs MacLean’s only hope for the future -was that the relationship which might have been should be realised as -nearly as possible--as though Honor and Gregor had been married before -he went out. - -“I have thought sometimes when I saw in the papers about young people -getting married like that that it was not very wise,” said the old -lady. “But now I see it differently. It is the best thing to do, for it -puts everything on a proper and legal footing. But, my dear, I know how -very dear you were to him, and you are just as dear to me as if you had -been married. Stay with me as long as you can put up with me. My heart -would be very empty without you.” - -And Honor kissed her and promised to stay. - -“You see, my dear,” said the old lady, another time, to Honor’s very -great surprise, “I have no one very near to me in kin, and I know -just what our boy would have wished me to do. That large blue letter -that came this morning was from Mr Worrall, the solicitor to the -firm, and it contained a copy of Gregor’s will, which he had the good -thought to make before he left. The bulk of his father’s money came -to me, of course, and would have passed on to him when my time came. -God has willed that otherwise, but I can still do what I know would -have pleased him--which I know will still please him if he is still -concerned with us below here, as both you and I rejoice to believe. Mr -Worrall tells me he left all he had to you, and it may be somewhere -about twenty thousand pounds----” - -“Oh--but----” - -But the old lady’s tremulous white hand constrained her to hear her out. - -“And when I go, my dear, there is no one in the world he would have -desired the rest--or most of it--to go to but yourself.” - -But Honor’s head was down in the motherly lap and she was sobbing -heart-brokenly. - -“I know, my dear. Sooner himself than all the money in the world,” and -she stroked the shaking head tenderly. “But God saw differently, and He -knows best. We will treasure our memories together, you and I.... Oh, -my boy! my boy!” and the white head bowed upon the brown, and the great -burden of their sorrow was easier for the sharing. - - - - -XXXIV - - -It was on a bleak afternoon in the middle of January that the quiet -little circle at The Red House was surprised by the sudden irruption of -Alma in a state of intensest excitement. - -She had come down at once when their sorrowful news about the boys -reached her, but that had had to be a short visit as they were terribly -busy at St Barnabas’s and shorter-handed than ever. - -“He’s coming home. He’s in England,” and she showed them a telegram she -had received an hour before, which said-- - - “Just landed. Will go straight to Willstead. Hope find you all - well. CON.” - -“It’s from Folkestone and he may be here any time,” she cried, radiant -with hopeful excitement. “Isn’t it delightful to see his own name -again, even at the end of a telegram. The dear boy! He must be better -or he couldn’t have come. I wonder how he got released. Anyway it’s -splendid to have him back,” and she looked at her watch every second -minute to make the time go quicker. - -“I wonder which house he will try first?” said Mrs Dare. - -“We’ll soon settle that,” said Alma. “A sheet of paper, Lo, and a -couple of drawing-pins!”--and she hauled out her fountain-pen and -printed in big letters--“THIS WAY, CON!” and ran out in the rain and -fixed it on The Red House gate-post, and opened the gate wide. - -“He’s bound to see that, coming from the station,” she panted. “I’d go -there and wait for him, but it’s such a bitterly cold place and I’d -hate for his first sight of me to be chiefly red nose and watery eyes. -That wouldn’t make for a cheerful welcome to the returned exile.” - -“He would sooner find you here, my dear. The Dares are never very -effusive in public, and it has been a very trying time for you both,” -said Mrs Dare quietly. - -Never did minutes drag so slowly. They could none of them settle down -even to soothing knitting, except Auntie Mitt, who went quietly on with -a body-belt which was child’s play that she could have done in her -sleep. - -“The trains are very much out of order, you know, with the passage of -troops,” said Mrs Dare, as Alma prowled restlessly about but turned up -at the window at least once each minute. - -“If he had wired from Boulogne I’d have been afraid of submarines or -mines. But surely nothing could go wrong just between Folkestone and -here! That would be too cruel.” - -“He’ll be all right, Al,” said Lois. “There’s hardly been time for him -to get here yet since he sent off the telegram. I wish Ray was coming -too, but he says there is no chance of leave again for a good while -yet.” - -“His news is good?” - -“Wonderfully good. He seems to be living in mud and water all the time. -It makes one shiver to think of it this weather. But he says he’s -keeping very well so far, in spite of it all.” - -“It’s amazing to me how they stand it. One of our men was telling -me---- Here he is!”--as the peremptory hoot of a motor was heard in the -road, and she dashed out just in time to see a long gray car, driven -by a man in khaki, and bearing O.H.M.S. in big red letters on its -wind-screen, sweep up the Oakdene drive. - -It had come the other way, down the road, and so had missed the notice -on the gate. She was just about to rush after it when it came scudding -back down the drive, backed up the road towards the station, and then -leaped forward, missed the gate-post by half an inch and came whirling -up to the door, and she saw Con’s face looking out from under the hood. - -“Oh, my dear! How thankful I am to see you again!” she cried -ecstatically, and wrenched open the door. - -A lean-faced young man, with bright eyes and a quiet face, had got out -at the other side and come quickly round to assist. He gave his arm to -Con and helped him out, and Con put both his arms on Alma’s shoulders -and kissed her warmly again and again. - -His face showed something of what he had gone through. It was thinner -and older looking. There were none of the old laughter-creases in it. -Instead--a soberness--almost sombreness--as of one still haunted by -the shock of untellable things, and in his once-merry eyes memories of -honors and a curious almost imperceptible sense of doubt and recoil. -It was very slight, but Alma’s eager eyes, as she took him all in at a -glance, discerned it in a moment as something quite new in him. - -And as his arms rested on her shoulders she was conscious of a strange -lack in the feel of them. His hands should have clasped her to him. Her -whole being should have leaped to the thrilling touch of them as their -two beings came into contact once more. - -But these things were lacking. His arms indeed lay on her shoulders, -and it was good to feel them there again. He had not had time to take -off his gloves, but one can clasp one’s wife to one’s heart even with -gloves on, though it was not like Con to do so. - -But there was something more than that,--something undefinable, -something in the unresponsiveness of the arms on her shoulders akin to -that other new something in him, of which her first quick glance had -apprised her, and a throb of fear tapped at her heart. - -Con lifted his arms from her shoulders and turned to the khaki-clad -chauffeur. - -“You’ll have time for a cup of tea and a bite of something to eat -before you go back?” he asked quietly, and the man saluted and -intimated his readiness, and then Con and Alma went up to the others -who stood waiting in the doorway. - -He kissed his mother warmly, and Lois, and Vic, and Auntie Mitt, and -introduced the lean-faced young man who was lagging quietly behind. - -“This is my very good friend, Robert Grant. If it hadn’t been for him -I should never have seen any of you again.” And they turned on Robert -Grant and put him to confusion with the volume and warmth of their -welcome, and then they all went on into the parlour. - -Grant was for eliminating himself again, but they would not have it. -Mrs Dare took him by the arm and led him in, murmuring her gratitude -again for his care of their boy. Auntie Mitt went off to see the -chauffeur properly provided for. - -And when they were inside the room Con turned quietly and said, with a -little break in his voice, which was deeper than they had known it, and -that new strange look in his eyes, “It’s good to be home again, but ... -Alma dear, they’ve sent me back a cripple. They cut off my hands.” - -And if there had been some lurking fear, born of the long months of -suffering and brooding, that that would make any difference in her love -for him, it fled on the instant. - -She understood it all in a moment,--his doubts as to the wisdom of -their hasty marriage,--his fears for the future,--all the black clouds -that had weighed on him during these bitter months of pain and exile. - -But if there had been in him one smallest doubt as to her love for him, -she scattered it and all the rest by the feel of her arms about his -neck and the cry that came right out of her heart. - -“Oh, my love! My love! You are dearer to me than ever. I thank God for -His great goodness in giving you back to me!” - -And Con, who had suffered more than most, both in mind and body, -without wincing, though he could not hide the effects, hid his face on -her breast and shook with sobs that he could not choke down. - -Their faces all showed the shock and strain of the distressing news, -except Robert Grant’s. His shock had come five months before and he had -had time to get over it. - -“Tell them how it was, Bob,” said Con, in a muffled voice, as he -lifted himself again. “You know more about it than I do. And give me a -cigarette before you begin.” - -Grant pulled out a cigarette-case and put a cigarette into his lips and -lit it, and started on his story. - -“Well, it was like this. We were up near Landrecies--in the retirement -from Mons, you know,”--his north-country speech, with its sympathetic -inflections and ringing r’s, admitted him right into Mrs Dare’s -heart.--“It was bad times for our men and our hands were overfull, -trying to pick up the wounded, for the Germans were rolling along after -us ten to our one. It was said they were behaving very badly to any -who fell into their hands. But, you must remember, things were moving -so quickly that they really hadn’t much time for anything but the -fighting. It was life and death all round, and a man who went down was -out of it and not of much account. - -“We were at the corner of a wood and our men were fighting splendidly -and seemed to be holding them for a bit. But casualties were very heavy -and we could not pick them up fast enough. Then, on a sudden, there -came a great rush of Germans in close formation. It was like a bore -going up a river. They simply swept over our men and rolled them back, -and we were left in a kind of backwater. - -“Dr Dare told us to stick to business, and we went on with our work. -Then an officer who was running past caught sight of us. I cannot say -he knew what we were. There was great confusion. Anyway, he saw the -Doctor’s uniform and levelled a revolver at him and shouted in English, -‘Hands up!’ and we put our hands up above our heads. - -“And just then, as evil luck would have it, a squadron of -cavalry--hussars--came galloping round the wood to take our men in -flank. And one of them, on our near side, as he passed behind us, just -slashed at the Doctor’s lifted hands with his sword, as he would -have done at a turnip on a pole in the practice field. It was sheer -devilment and without reason. And when he saw the Doctor’s hands fall -to the ground he turned up his face and laughed, and they all laughed. -The wicked devils!--if you’ll pardon me.” - -The faces of all his hearers were pale as they pictured the horror in -their own minds. - -“What utter fiends!” jerked Alma, white with anger at thought of the -ruthless savagery of it. - -“It is just the German war-spirit at its worst,” said Con quietly. His -lips had puckered on the cigarette as Grant told the story. But he had -recovered himself. “The spirit of absolute selfishness and indifference -to others. I really felt very little at the moment. Just the sharp -cut, then a numbness, and I saw my hands lying on the ground. They -looked awfully queer. I just remember thinking, ‘Good God! Those are my -hands!’ Then everything began to go round and I fell. Proceed, Robert!” - -“The officer who had actually caused the mischief by holding us up -had been staring very hard at Dr Dare. When he saw what happened he -went white in the face and swore hard in German at the hussars. Then -he turned to me and said, in English, ‘Bind him up quickly! Will he -die?’ I told him I did not know. But with another fellow’s help I -bound the Doctor’s wrists very tightly to stop the bleeding, and put -on tourniquets above each elbow and twisted them as tight as I could. -Then he handed us over to a sergeant and half-a-dozen men,--there -were eight of us altogether;--he gave him some very particular orders -and then went on after the battle. The sergeant presently collared a -stretcher and bearers, and marched us to the rear of their advance, -and the numbers of men we saw there, pressing on to the pursuit, was -an eye-opener. They seemed endless,--moving torrents of gray. I never -saw so many men in my life. The sergeant found a doctor, and the doctor -looked very grave over the matter. But he was clever. Dr Dare was -coming round. He anæsthetised him and sent him off again and made a -very good job of the wrists. If he’d been a bungler we would not be -here. We were sent off to the rear and eventually into Germany.” - -“The man who held us up, and so was the real cause of the trouble, was -Von Helse----” said Con. - -“Ludwig?--Oh, Con!” gasped Lois, horrified. - -“He was not to blame for the rest. In fact he was dreadfully cut up -about it, and took to himself blame which did not really lie. He has -done all he could to make amends. He got permission for me to keep -Bob with me all the time, and most of the time we have been on parole -at Frau von Helse’s house in Leipsic, and she and Luise have done -everything they could for me. And it is von Helse who arranged for our -release;--how, I cannot imagine, but here we are and it’s thanks to -him. That’s the whole story. As to what I’ve felt about it all--well, -perhaps the less said the better. At first, the only thing I wanted was -to die and have done with it all. The thought of going through life -handless was too awful. But Bob here won me back to a braver mind. It’s -really due to him, in a dozen different ways, that I pulled through. -And now----” - -“We can never thank you properly, Mr Grant,” said Alma, reaching for -his hand and shaking it warmly in both hers. - -“We’ll do our best, however,” said Mrs Dare, patting him on the -shoulder in motherly fashion. - -“He’s been just absolutely everything to me,” said Con, “and he’s going -to stop on with me and continue his good work. He was studying for a -medical, you see, up in Edinburgh, so we get on fine together. But it -would be a queer sort that couldn’t get on with Bob Grant. He’s a white -man all through.” - -Robert Grant’s lean cheek responded briefly to the genial warmth of the -atmosphere which enveloped him. - -“That is very good hearing, Mr Grant,” said Mrs Dare heartily. “We -could wish nothing better. It will be a joy to have you among us.” - -The maid came to the door with word that the chauffeur was ready to go. - -“Give him half a sovereign, Bob, and my best thanks.--No, I’ll thank -him myself. He brought us up from Folkestone in fine style. He was -driving a motor-bus before the war and he’s having the time of his life -now with no speed limit,” and he and Grant went out together to start -their jovial Jehu back to Folkestone in the highest of spirits. - - - - -XXXV - - -Alma managed to make an exchange with one of the nurses at Oakdene, so -that she herself could be with Con and be doing duty at the same time -and yet not leave St Barnabas’s any shorter-handed than it was. - -It was a bit irregular, perhaps, but it was either that or giving up -nursing altogether, which she had no wish to do till the war was over. - -But be with Con, now that she had got him back from the dead, so to -speak, she vowed she would, cost what it might. - -“If anyone needs me it is my husband,” she told Mrs Matron, “and I’m -going to stick to him no matter who else suffers.” At which the Matron -smiled indulgently and arranged matters as she wished. - -“It is dreadful for Dr Dare,” she said. “And we must do all we can to -help. I saw about it in the papers.” - -“He was very much put out about that. He can’t imagine where they got -hold of it.” - -“He’s to have the D.S.O. too, I see. And I’m sure he deserves it. What -is he going to do?” - -“He’s going on with his own work. Young Grant, who saved his life, and -stuck to him all through, and brought him home, is just splendid. He’s -a medical, you know, though he hadn’t quite finished his courses. He’s -to stop and be Con’s hands, but I imagine his head will do good service -as well. They did a certain amount of study while they were in Germany, -to keep their minds off other matters, and they’re setting to work -again at once.” - -“That’s fine--for both of them.” - -But before that week was out they had another surprise in a visit from -Sir James Jamieson, the Harley Street brain-specialist. - -He was a tall, white-haired man, with a forehead like the dome of -St Paul’s, only much whiter. He knew more about brains than any man -in Great Britain, and, in spite of a life devoted to other people’s -aberrations, was of a most genial and jovial disposition, and of a very -tender heart. - -“Well?”--was his surprising greeting to Con. “When are you going to be -ready to start work with me?” - -And Con gazed at him in incredulous amazement, behind which sprang up -and fluttered a wild incredible hope. - -Sir James, he knew, loved a joke. But he was the last man in the world -to spin a joke against a man left handless against the world. - -“Do you mean it, sir?” gasped Con, shaken out of his natural politeness -by so stupendous an instant levelling of all the barriers he had seen -in front of him. - -“Mean it, my dear boy?--of course I mean it. Do you suppose I’ve wasted -precious hours coming down into the wilds of Willstead to say things -I don’t mean? I wanted you before and I want you more than ever now. -Those miserable devils didn’t chop off any of your brain, did they? -Well, it’s your good, sound, searching brain I want. We’ll find hands -for you all right. There is no lack of hands in the world, but brains -are sadly lacking, I’m sorry to say, and what there are are not all -what they might be.” - -He had talked on, like the perfect gentleman he was, to give Con time -to recover himself. - -And now Con looked at him with shining eyes,--eyes in which the light -of a new great hope in life shone mistily through the excitation of his -feelings, like stars shining up out of the sea,--and he said, “You make -a new man of me, Sir James.... I feared ... and now----” and Sir James, -being a Scotchman himself, understood better than all the words in the -world could have told him. - -“Now I want a cup of tea,” said the great man jauntily, “and if the -two Mrs Dares are available it would be a pleasure to me to make their -acquaintance.” - -Con, without moving, touched a button under the carpet with his foot -and Robert Grant, who had fixed it up for him only that morning, came -in. - -“This is my good friend, Robert Grant, Sir James,” and the old man and -the young one, in acknowledging the introduction, glanced keenly at one -another for a moment and appeared mutually satisfied. “Would you beg -my mother to join us, Robert, and tell them to send in tea at once. -And then if you’d slip across and ask my wife to come over for a few -minutes I’d be much obliged.” - -“Who’s he?” asked Sir James, as Grant vanished. - -“He saved my life out there and has been everything to me these last -five months. He’s a medical, and the best fellow alive. He’s consented -to be my hands.” - -“Good! I like the looks of him.” - -“He’s better even than he looks and his brain is quite all right. He’s -one of the exceptions. We’ve drawn very close together these months out -there. He’s consented to stop with me, but he’s got ambitions of his -own----” - -“Of course,--being a Scotchman.” - -“And I’m hoping that he won’t really be sacrificing himself entirely by -devoting himself to me. We did a certain amount of study out there and -he’s getting quite keen on the brain.” - -“We’ll find him his place all right. Keen men are none too -plentiful--especially on the brain.” - -Mrs Dare came in, and Alma a few minutes after her, and when they had -been made to understand the wonderful news, while Sir James drank his -tea, they were almost as much overcome as Con himself had been. - -When they tried to express a little of what they felt about it, Sir -James genially stopped them with, “You see, I want him. I don’t know -any other youngster whose ideas chime with my own as his do. And I like -that Grant boy. And I like you two. I’m inclined to think we shall all -get along uncommonly well together. You have lost a son out there, Mrs -Dare.” - -“Our youngest. He was just nineteen.” - -“I saw about it. It is sad for us to lose them so young and in such a -way. But the gain is all theirs when they die as your boy did, and we -may not mourn unduly. My dear lad died in South Africa and in very much -the same way--trying to save a friend. After all--it’s a noble death to -die. And you are nursing, my dear?”--to Alma. - -“Wounded officers at Oakdene, next door. I was at St Barnabas’s but I -made an exchange. You see, I hadn’t seen my husband since the morning -we were married.” - -“Quite right! Your experience will at all events bring sympathy to his -work.” - -“That’s why I took up nursing, four years ago.” - -“Good girl! You’re the right kind for a doctor’s wife,” and then he -shook hands with them, patted Con on the shoulder and bade him get -ready for the move into town, shook hands cordially also with Robert -Grant and told him they would know one another better before long, and -then hurried into his impatient motor and whirled away back to town. - -“Now isn’t that wonderful?” said Con, with a happier face than he had -worn since Landrecies. - -“He’s splendid,” said Alma. “I love him already.” - -“For your sake I am very thankful, my dear boy,” said his mother. “God -is very gracious to us. If He takes, He also gives, and His ways are -very wonderful.” - - - - -XXXVI - - -Ray Luard was having the time of his life out there, in the sodden -fields and soggy mud-holes which did duty for trenches in north-west -France.--The time of his life, but not in most respects as the term is -usually applied. - -It was a perpetual amazement to him that anything human and -non-amphibious could stand it. That boys, brought up to the comforts -and amenities of life, could not only stand it but could and did -maintain exceeding cheerfulness under it, provoked his profoundest -admiration. And regarding himself aloofly, and from the outside as it -were, he shared in his own amazement at his own share in it, and took -no little credit to himself, for he certainly never would have believed -himself capable of it. - -But they all kept in mind, and constantly chuckled over, the vehement -exhortation of a certain well-known General, who had inspected them -shortly after that ghastly-glorious night at Messines. - -“Keep your billets clean! Keep your bodies clean! Cock your bonnets! -And, for God’s sake, smile!”--was what he asked of them; and there -had been no more-smiling faces or perkier fighters along that -sorely-pressed Western front than the boys with the bare knees and -swinging kilts since he said it. - -They splashed and floundered along roads a foot deep in slime to get -to their advance trenches, where the mud and water were at times up to -their waists. - -They sank and stuck bodily in affectionately glutinous mixtures which -would not let them go till at times they paid toll of shoes and almost -of the feet inside them. - -For ten days at a time, on occasion, they never had their boots -off--unless the mud took them by force,--nor their sodden clothes. - -They were plastered with mud from head to foot. Their kilts, -water-logged and frozen and tagged with mud, scored their bare legs. -They ate in mud, they slept in mud. And when their off-time came, if -they could find a blanket to wrap round their muddy bodies before -depositing them on a stony floor in the rear, they thanked God for it -and accounted themselves rich, and slept like troopers. - -Circumstances rendered full compliance with the vehement General’s -exhortations impossible, but what they could they did,--they cocked -their bonnets, and for God’s sake and their country’s, they smiled. - -It was the most wonderful and soul-bracing exhibition of the power of -mind over matter that Ray Luard had ever seen, and he would not have -missed his share in it for any money. - -At times they had a few days’ rest in the rear,--for the time being no -longer actual targets for shells though an occasional one came closer -than was necessary to their comfort, but the sound of the guns was -never out of their ears, and at all times they were liable to sudden -urgent summons to stiffen the front against unexpected assault. - -It snowed, and it sleeted, and it rained and froze, and the trampled -mud of the highways and byways got deeper and deeper and ever more -tenacious in its grip on them. - -At the rear they slept off their first dog-tiredness and had hot baths -and an occasional impromptu concert. They ate and drank in peace and -comparative comfort, and always, for God’s sake and their country’s, -they smiled. And now and again,--impressive under such circumstances -even to the most frivolous,--they had Church Parade and Communion. -Then, rest-time over, away back to the water-logged trenches and all -the stress and strain, and the ever-present chance of sudden death. - -Ray’s great time came about the end of January, when the Hodden-Grays -were sent to hold some trenches in a brickfield, and they had barely -taken possession when, in the early morning, the enemy made a dead -set all along that portion of the line and succeeded in denting it in -places. They had quietly sapped up close to the advance trench and -mined it. They fired their mines, threw in smoky bombs, and in the -confusion got in under cover of the smoke with the bayonet. - -The Scots gave them a warm welcome, and there was some very pretty -fighting in the dark, and many a fine deed done of which none but the -doers and the done ever heard a word. - -But, as it chanced, Ray’s doings stood out somewhat prominently. - -When he raced with his company into the brickfield, floundering all of -them in the dark over piles of bricks and into shell-craters full of -water, they found the late occupants of the trench holding a brick-kiln -as a defensive work against the irrupting Huns who seemed all over the -place. - -A Sergeant was in charge and gave Ray hasty word of what had happened. -Their officers were down, and the enemy’s onrush had been so sudden and -overwhelming that it had been impossible to bring in either them or the -machine-gun which was on a small platform at this end of the trench. - -Ray saw his obvious work. He mustered his men behind the kiln, ordered -bayonets, explained in two words what was required of them, and then -with a cheery, “Strike sure, boys!”--they were off, with a Scottish -yell that told the Huns their time was up and their presence there no -longer desired. - -A volley as they ran, and then quick work with the bayonet, and they -were at the trench and across it, and that section was momentarily -cleared. - -Hasty search with electric torches--the wounded, including -two officers, picked up and sent back,--the machine-gun and -ammunition-boxes lifted and carried to the kiln, and as supports for -the enemy came piling up and massed in front for another assault, they -raced back to cover to prepare his welcome. - -Ray, strung to concert pitch, flung his orders sharply. - -“Wounded, down under!--Take those other kilns some of you,--lie -flat,--make cover with the bricks! Don’t fire till they’re at the -trench. Some of you up here! The rest where you can, and lie low! Up -with that Maxim, Mac, and build a bit of a screen! Hand up those boxes, -there!” - -They toiled desperately, piling up little heaps of bricks on top of -the kiln, and on the ground bricks, clay, mud, anything for cover, and -then they lay flat, with their eyes glued to the parapet of the trench -beyond. - -“Here they come! Now, boys, give them blazes!” and rapider fire than -the Hodden-Grays had ever produced in their lives before poured -point-blank into the solid dark masses in front. - -They went down in heaps before the pitiless hail. The rest came -floundering over them and went down in turn. - -On top of the kiln, Ray, with Mac’s good help, kept the Maxim going -full blast. He pressed hard on the double button so that the trigger -was held back out of the tumbler, and while Mac fed in the feed-belts -for dear life, he slowly turned the muzzle from side to side so that -the ceaseless stream of bullets met the stumbling line in front like a -fiery fan. Nothing human could possibly stand so deadly a flailing. The -floundering line yelled and cursed and withered away. That little fight -was won. - -Some of the boys, overstrung and mad with the blood-thirst, were for -leaping out after them with the bayonet. But Ray sternly called them -back. - -They had won and he would take no risks. - -Stretcher-bearers came hurrying up from the rear. The wounded were -picked up and carried back, and Ray and Mac set the rest to work to -strengthen their kiln-forts in case any further attempt should be made. -Later, if the enemy’s guns found them out they would have to take to -their trench again, but, for the time being, fairly dry bricks were -better than eighteen inches of mud and water. - -Before dawn a field kitchen came up to the rear within reach, and they -got hot coffee and bread and bully beef, and ate with the gusto of men -who have fought a good fight and won. - -As soon as they could distinguish anything in the glimmering light, -they crept out to pick up any of their wounded who might have been -overlooked in the mêlée. And then they turned their attention to their -fallen foes. - -They lay in heaps, piled two and three on top of one another,--grim -enough by reason of their numbers but, shot mostly in the body, not so -ghastly as if they had been ripped to fragments by shell-fire. - -Ray and his trusty Sergeant were prowling about when they came on an -officer, buried all but his head under a pile of bodies. His eyes, -straining and bloodshot with impotent fury, showed still plenty of life -and ill-feeling in him, however sore his wounding. - -Ray called up a couple of bearers and they all set to work to free him -from his lugubrious load, and all the while he scowled at them like a -vicious dog and said no word of thanks. - -As they lifted off the last body, and bent to raise him, he drew his -hand out of the breast of his unbuttoned greatcoat, and, before they -knew what he was at, let fly with a large automatic pistol full at -Ray. One bullet took off the lobe of his ear, the rest went crashing -into his left shoulder. Before the vicious wretch could do any more -mischief, Sergeant Mac brained him with a rifle-butt and hissed as -requiem, “Ye dirrrty snake!” and then turned his attention to Ray. - -“I’ll have to get back, Mac,” he said quietly, and started off at a -quick walk. - -“Ye’ll no!” and caught him as he reeled, and laid him gently on the -stretcher. - -“Look to things, Mac,” as he felt suddenly very tired and inclined to -sleep. - -“Go quick, boys!” ordered Mac. “His shoulder’s in rags and he’ll bleed -out unless you get him tied up.” - -One of them pulled out bandages and hastily padded and bound the -ragged shoulder, and then they set off as fast as the broken ground -would let them. - -“During the night the enemy made a violent assault on our -advanced trenches. It was repulsed with loss. Our positions are -maintained,”--said the despatches. - - - - -XXXVII - - -Lois had had no letter from the front for four days, which was a day -longer than the longest between-time for a long while now, and she was -feeling somewhat anxious. - -“But,” she reassured herself, “delays must happen at times, and letters -may even get lost. I have been wonderfully fortunate so far, and I -will not be over-anxious or upset. If I have any belief at all in the -efficacy of prayer I must keep my heart up and keep on hoping.” - -And she prayed as she had never prayed before, but found herself -bewildered at times when she thought that millions of other women -were praying just as earnestly for their own dear ones, and it was -impossible that all those prayers should be answered by the safe return -of those they prayed for. Women in millions were praying and men in -thousands were falling. Still she would go on praying and hoping. For -there was nothing else she could do. - -She prayed straight for Ray’s safe deliverance. She wondered at times -if it were quite right to do so. But she went on praying for it, and -as the days passed letterless spent much time upon her knees in great -agony of mind, in spite of all her efforts after equanimity. - -Why should he be spared when so many were taken? Yet, “Oh, deliver him -from danger and send him back to me!” was the burden of her prayers, -and at times she caught herself remonstrating with God against any -smaller answer. - -But by degrees she came to higher thought and sobbed, “I do not know -what to ask for, Lord. Have him in Thy Care and do what is best for -us.” - -And it was while she was on her knees so praying one day, that there -came a hasty tap on her door, and her mother’s voice--like the voice of -an angel,--“Lois--a letter--from Ray,” and she thanked God fervently -and ran to open the door. - -There was no mistaking the handwriting. She kissed it delightedly, tore -it open, and savoured its news almost at a glance. - -“He is wounded,” she jerked, as she skimmed it rapidly for her mother’s -benefit. “Getting over it all right.... Will be sent home shortly ... -may be out of it for the rest of the war.... Oh, I can’t help wishing -he might! Surely we have done our share, Mother!” - -“Thank God, he is safe!” said Mrs Dare fervently. - -“Now suppose you come downstairs and tell us all about it. Auntie Mitt -is in a fever to know, and Vic is like a ghost.” - -“I’ll follow you in one minute, dear,”--and on her knees she read her -precious letter carefully through once more, then bowed her head in -gratitude for its good news, and ran downstairs like herself again. - -“I am glad, my dear,” said Auntie Mitt, with watery sparkles in her -eyes, as Lois kissed her exuberantly, “--very glad indeed. Now we would -like to hear all about it.” - - “Sorry to have missed a mail or two, as I know it will have - made you anxious,” Ray wrote, “but there was no help for it. We - had a rather rough scrap with the Boches, the other night, and - I got it at last in the arm,--the left fortunately, as you see. - They attacked in force and we held them with the help of some - brick-kilns and finally drove them off. One line in the papers, - I expect,--if that!--but it was tolerably hot work. It was - afterwards that I got my little jag. We were picking up wounded - and came on an officer--a Prussian captain. He was under a - pile of his own dead, and as we released him he pulled out an - automatic and gave it me in the shoulder. Took off a bit of my - ear also, but that’s a trifle----” - -“The horrid brute!” raged Lois. - - “--He didn’t get much satisfaction out of it, however,”--said - the letter--“for Sergeant Mac who was with me picked up a rifle - and brained him on the spot.” - -“Served him right!” said Lois, and then remembered that two minutes ago -she was on her knees thanking God for Ray’s safety. “It’s horrible. It -makes one blood-thirsty to think of it.” - -“It must be awful to be in it,” said Mrs Dare. “No wonder they do -dreadful things at times, when simply hearing of a treachery like this -makes our blood boil because it happens to come so close home to us.” - -“It seems to me things are getting worse in war instead of better,” -said Auntie Mitt plaintively. - - “--They got me to the dressing station and tied me up, and - eventually sent me down on the ambulance train to Boulogne, - where I now am,--being very nicely attended to and as - comfortable as can be. It is heavenly to be clean again and - between clean sheets. It is not easy to know how we stood the - trenches so well;--now that I’m out of them the conditions - seem perfectly horrible. And yet we lived--and ‘for God’s - sake smiled!’ They are saying that our stand that night - saved a critical position. Several top-notties have called - to congratulate me, and it’s said both Mac and I are to have - the V.C. You see, we were lucky enough to bring in quite a - respectable bag of wounded from the trench,--and so if I come - back with only one arm _and_ the V.C., you’ll have to try and - put up with me as best you can.” - -“Won’t I?” said Lois rapturously. - - “--Don’t think of coming out, dear. I know that would be your - first thought----” - -“Of course it was!” - - “--Everything is being done for me excellently well, and as - soon as I am fit again, and properly rested, I shall be sent - over. Your minds may be quite easy on my account.” - -“Thank God, it is no worse!” said Mrs Dare fervently. - -“Amen!” said Lois. - - * * * * * - -And there this brief glimpse into the home-side of the war-clouds may -very well stop for the time being. - -In this six short months, Life and Death have been busier among us all -than ever before in the history of the world. - -Old and young have lived mightily and died nobly. They have died like -men and fallen like princes. Not one of the lives so freely given for -The Great Idea has been wasted--not one. The life of the community at -large, brought so closely into touch with death, has been quickened and -raised to higher levels. - -But the earth is full of mourning, for War is an evil evil thing, and -its fiery trail is strewn with broken lives and broken hopes and broken -hearts. - - - _Printed by_ - MORRISON & GIBB LIMITED - _Edinburgh_ - - - - -Transcriber’s Notes - - -Punctuation, hyphenation, and spelling were made consistent when a -predominant preference was found in the original book; otherwise they -were not changed. - -Simple typographical errors were corrected; unbalanced quotation -marks were remedied when the change was obvious, and otherwise left -unbalanced. - -This book contains many words in dialect, and they are not always -spelled or punctuated in the same way. - -*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK “1914” *** - -Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions will -be renamed. - -Creating the works from print editions not protected by U.S. copyright -law means that no one owns a United States copyright in these works, -so the Foundation (and you!) can copy and distribute it in the -United States without permission and without paying copyright -royalties. Special rules, set forth in the General Terms of Use part -of this license, apply to copying and distributing Project -Gutenberg-tm electronic works to protect the PROJECT GUTENBERG-tm -concept and trademark. Project Gutenberg is a registered trademark, -and may not be used if you charge for an eBook, except by following -the terms of the trademark license, including paying royalties for use -of the Project Gutenberg trademark. If you do not charge anything for -copies of this eBook, complying with the trademark license is very -easy. You may use this eBook for nearly any purpose such as creation -of derivative works, reports, performances and research. Project -Gutenberg eBooks may be modified and printed and given away--you may -do practically ANYTHING in the United States with eBooks not protected -by U.S. copyright law. Redistribution is subject to the trademark -license, especially commercial redistribution. - -START: FULL LICENSE - -THE FULL PROJECT GUTENBERG LICENSE -PLEASE READ THIS BEFORE YOU DISTRIBUTE OR USE THIS WORK - -To protect the Project Gutenberg-tm mission of promoting the free -distribution of electronic works, by using or distributing this work -(or any other work associated in any way with the phrase "Project -Gutenberg"), you agree to comply with all the terms of the Full -Project Gutenberg-tm License available with this file or online at -www.gutenberg.org/license. - -Section 1. General Terms of Use and Redistributing Project -Gutenberg-tm electronic works - -1.A. By reading or using any part of this Project Gutenberg-tm -electronic work, you indicate that you have read, understand, agree to -and accept all the terms of this license and intellectual property -(trademark/copyright) agreement. If you do not agree to abide by all -the terms of this agreement, you must cease using and return or -destroy all copies of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works in your -possession. If you paid a fee for obtaining a copy of or access to a -Project Gutenberg-tm electronic work and you do not agree to be bound -by the terms of this agreement, you may obtain a refund from the -person or entity to whom you paid the fee as set forth in paragraph -1.E.8. - -1.B. "Project Gutenberg" is a registered trademark. It may only be -used on or associated in any way with an electronic work by people who -agree to be bound by the terms of this agreement. There are a few -things that you can do with most Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works -even without complying with the full terms of this agreement. See -paragraph 1.C below. There are a lot of things you can do with Project -Gutenberg-tm electronic works if you follow the terms of this -agreement and help preserve free future access to Project Gutenberg-tm -electronic works. See paragraph 1.E below. - -1.C. The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation ("the -Foundation" or PGLAF), owns a compilation copyright in the collection -of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works. Nearly all the individual -works in the collection are in the public domain in the United -States. If an individual work is unprotected by copyright law in the -United States and you are located in the United States, we do not -claim a right to prevent you from copying, distributing, performing, -displaying or creating derivative works based on the work as long as -all references to Project Gutenberg are removed. Of course, we hope -that you will support the Project Gutenberg-tm mission of promoting -free access to electronic works by freely sharing Project Gutenberg-tm -works in compliance with the terms of this agreement for keeping the -Project Gutenberg-tm name associated with the work. You can easily -comply with the terms of this agreement by keeping this work in the -same format with its attached full Project Gutenberg-tm License when -you share it without charge with others. - -1.D. The copyright laws of the place where you are located also govern -what you can do with this work. Copyright laws in most countries are -in a constant state of change. If you are outside the United States, -check the laws of your country in addition to the terms of this -agreement before downloading, copying, displaying, performing, -distributing or creating derivative works based on this work or any -other Project Gutenberg-tm work. The Foundation makes no -representations concerning the copyright status of any work in any -country other than the United States. - -1.E. Unless you have removed all references to Project Gutenberg: - -1.E.1. The following sentence, with active links to, or other -immediate access to, the full Project Gutenberg-tm License must appear -prominently whenever any copy of a Project Gutenberg-tm work (any work -on which the phrase "Project Gutenberg" appears, or with which the -phrase "Project Gutenberg" is associated) is accessed, displayed, -performed, viewed, copied or distributed: - - This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and - most other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no - restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it - under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included with this - eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org. If you are not located in the - United States, you will have to check the laws of the country where - you are located before using this eBook. - -1.E.2. If an individual Project Gutenberg-tm electronic work is -derived from texts not protected by U.S. copyright law (does not -contain a notice indicating that it is posted with permission of the -copyright holder), the work can be copied and distributed to anyone in -the United States without paying any fees or charges. If you are -redistributing or providing access to a work with the phrase "Project -Gutenberg" associated with or appearing on the work, you must comply -either with the requirements of paragraphs 1.E.1 through 1.E.7 or -obtain permission for the use of the work and the Project Gutenberg-tm -trademark as set forth in paragraphs 1.E.8 or 1.E.9. - -1.E.3. If an individual Project Gutenberg-tm electronic work is posted -with the permission of the copyright holder, your use and distribution -must comply with both paragraphs 1.E.1 through 1.E.7 and any -additional terms imposed by the copyright holder. Additional terms -will be linked to the Project Gutenberg-tm License for all works -posted with the permission of the copyright holder found at the -beginning of this work. - -1.E.4. Do not unlink or detach or remove the full Project Gutenberg-tm -License terms from this work, or any files containing a part of this -work or any other work associated with Project Gutenberg-tm. - -1.E.5. Do not copy, display, perform, distribute or redistribute this -electronic work, or any part of this electronic work, without -prominently displaying the sentence set forth in paragraph 1.E.1 with -active links or immediate access to the full terms of the Project -Gutenberg-tm License. - -1.E.6. You may convert to and distribute this work in any binary, -compressed, marked up, nonproprietary or proprietary form, including -any word processing or hypertext form. However, if you provide access -to or distribute copies of a Project Gutenberg-tm work in a format -other than "Plain Vanilla ASCII" or other format used in the official -version posted on the official Project Gutenberg-tm website -(www.gutenberg.org), you must, at no additional cost, fee or expense -to the user, provide a copy, a means of exporting a copy, or a means -of obtaining a copy upon request, of the work in its original "Plain -Vanilla ASCII" or other form. Any alternate format must include the -full Project Gutenberg-tm License as specified in paragraph 1.E.1. - -1.E.7. Do not charge a fee for access to, viewing, displaying, -performing, copying or distributing any Project Gutenberg-tm works -unless you comply with paragraph 1.E.8 or 1.E.9. - -1.E.8. You may charge a reasonable fee for copies of or providing -access to or distributing Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works -provided that: - -* You pay a royalty fee of 20% of the gross profits you derive from - the use of Project Gutenberg-tm works calculated using the method - you already use to calculate your applicable taxes. The fee is owed - to the owner of the Project Gutenberg-tm trademark, but he has - agreed to donate royalties under this paragraph to the Project - Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation. Royalty payments must be paid - within 60 days following each date on which you prepare (or are - legally required to prepare) your periodic tax returns. Royalty - payments should be clearly marked as such and sent to the Project - Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation at the address specified in - Section 4, "Information about donations to the Project Gutenberg - Literary Archive Foundation." - -* You provide a full refund of any money paid by a user who notifies - you in writing (or by e-mail) within 30 days of receipt that s/he - does not agree to the terms of the full Project Gutenberg-tm - License. You must require such a user to return or destroy all - copies of the works possessed in a physical medium and discontinue - all use of and all access to other copies of Project Gutenberg-tm - works. - -* You provide, in accordance with paragraph 1.F.3, a full refund of - any money paid for a work or a replacement copy, if a defect in the - electronic work is discovered and reported to you within 90 days of - receipt of the work. - -* You comply with all other terms of this agreement for free - distribution of Project Gutenberg-tm works. - -1.E.9. If you wish to charge a fee or distribute a Project -Gutenberg-tm electronic work or group of works on different terms than -are set forth in this agreement, you must obtain permission in writing -from the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation, the manager of -the Project Gutenberg-tm trademark. Contact the Foundation as set -forth in Section 3 below. - -1.F. - -1.F.1. Project Gutenberg volunteers and employees expend considerable -effort to identify, do copyright research on, transcribe and proofread -works not protected by U.S. copyright law in creating the Project -Gutenberg-tm collection. Despite these efforts, Project Gutenberg-tm -electronic works, and the medium on which they may be stored, may -contain "Defects," such as, but not limited to, incomplete, inaccurate -or corrupt data, transcription errors, a copyright or other -intellectual property infringement, a defective or damaged disk or -other medium, a computer virus, or computer codes that damage or -cannot be read by your equipment. - -1.F.2. LIMITED WARRANTY, DISCLAIMER OF DAMAGES - Except for the "Right -of Replacement or Refund" described in paragraph 1.F.3, the Project -Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation, the owner of the Project -Gutenberg-tm trademark, and any other party distributing a Project -Gutenberg-tm electronic work under this agreement, disclaim all -liability to you for damages, costs and expenses, including legal -fees. YOU AGREE THAT YOU HAVE NO REMEDIES FOR NEGLIGENCE, STRICT -LIABILITY, BREACH OF WARRANTY OR BREACH OF CONTRACT EXCEPT THOSE -PROVIDED IN PARAGRAPH 1.F.3. YOU AGREE THAT THE FOUNDATION, THE -TRADEMARK OWNER, AND ANY DISTRIBUTOR UNDER THIS AGREEMENT WILL NOT BE -LIABLE TO YOU FOR ACTUAL, DIRECT, INDIRECT, CONSEQUENTIAL, PUNITIVE OR -INCIDENTAL DAMAGES EVEN IF YOU GIVE NOTICE OF THE POSSIBILITY OF SUCH -DAMAGE. - -1.F.3. LIMITED RIGHT OF REPLACEMENT OR REFUND - If you discover a -defect in this electronic work within 90 days of receiving it, you can -receive a refund of the money (if any) you paid for it by sending a -written explanation to the person you received the work from. If you -received the work on a physical medium, you must return the medium -with your written explanation. The person or entity that provided you -with the defective work may elect to provide a replacement copy in -lieu of a refund. If you received the work electronically, the person -or entity providing it to you may choose to give you a second -opportunity to receive the work electronically in lieu of a refund. If -the second copy is also defective, you may demand a refund in writing -without further opportunities to fix the problem. - -1.F.4. Except for the limited right of replacement or refund set forth -in paragraph 1.F.3, this work is provided to you 'AS-IS', WITH NO -OTHER WARRANTIES OF ANY KIND, EXPRESS OR IMPLIED, INCLUDING BUT NOT -LIMITED TO WARRANTIES OF MERCHANTABILITY OR FITNESS FOR ANY PURPOSE. - -1.F.5. Some states do not allow disclaimers of certain implied -warranties or the exclusion or limitation of certain types of -damages. If any disclaimer or limitation set forth in this agreement -violates the law of the state applicable to this agreement, the -agreement shall be interpreted to make the maximum disclaimer or -limitation permitted by the applicable state law. The invalidity or -unenforceability of any provision of this agreement shall not void the -remaining provisions. - -1.F.6. INDEMNITY - You agree to indemnify and hold the Foundation, the -trademark owner, any agent or employee of the Foundation, anyone -providing copies of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works in -accordance with this agreement, and any volunteers associated with the -production, promotion and distribution of Project Gutenberg-tm -electronic works, harmless from all liability, costs and expenses, -including legal fees, that arise directly or indirectly from any of -the following which you do or cause to occur: (a) distribution of this -or any Project Gutenberg-tm work, (b) alteration, modification, or -additions or deletions to any Project Gutenberg-tm work, and (c) any -Defect you cause. - -Section 2. Information about the Mission of Project Gutenberg-tm - -Project Gutenberg-tm is synonymous with the free distribution of -electronic works in formats readable by the widest variety of -computers including obsolete, old, middle-aged and new computers. It -exists because of the efforts of hundreds of volunteers and donations -from people in all walks of life. - -Volunteers and financial support to provide volunteers with the -assistance they need are critical to reaching Project Gutenberg-tm's -goals and ensuring that the Project Gutenberg-tm collection will -remain freely available for generations to come. In 2001, the Project -Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation was created to provide a secure -and permanent future for Project Gutenberg-tm and future -generations. To learn more about the Project Gutenberg Literary -Archive Foundation and how your efforts and donations can help, see -Sections 3 and 4 and the Foundation information page at -www.gutenberg.org - -Section 3. Information about the Project Gutenberg Literary -Archive Foundation - -The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation is a non-profit -501(c)(3) educational corporation organized under the laws of the -state of Mississippi and granted tax exempt status by the Internal -Revenue Service. The Foundation's EIN or federal tax identification -number is 64-6221541. Contributions to the Project Gutenberg Literary -Archive Foundation are tax deductible to the full extent permitted by -U.S. federal laws and your state's laws. - -The Foundation's business office is located at 809 North 1500 West, -Salt Lake City, UT 84116, (801) 596-1887. Email contact links and up -to date contact information can be found at the Foundation's website -and official page at www.gutenberg.org/contact - -Section 4. Information about Donations to the Project Gutenberg -Literary Archive Foundation - -Project Gutenberg-tm depends upon and cannot survive without -widespread public support and donations to carry out its mission of -increasing the number of public domain and licensed works that can be -freely distributed in machine-readable form accessible by the widest -array of equipment including outdated equipment. Many small donations -($1 to $5,000) are particularly important to maintaining tax exempt -status with the IRS. - -The Foundation is committed to complying with the laws regulating -charities and charitable donations in all 50 states of the United -States. Compliance requirements are not uniform and it takes a -considerable effort, much paperwork and many fees to meet and keep up -with these requirements. We do not solicit donations in locations -where we have not received written confirmation of compliance. To SEND -DONATIONS or determine the status of compliance for any particular -state visit www.gutenberg.org/donate - -While we cannot and do not solicit contributions from states where we -have not met the solicitation requirements, we know of no prohibition -against accepting unsolicited donations from donors in such states who -approach us with offers to donate. - -International donations are gratefully accepted, but we cannot make -any statements concerning tax treatment of donations received from -outside the United States. U.S. laws alone swamp our small staff. - -Please check the Project Gutenberg web pages for current donation -methods and addresses. Donations are accepted in a number of other -ways including checks, online payments and credit card donations. To -donate, please visit: www.gutenberg.org/donate - -Section 5. General Information About Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works - -Professor Michael S. Hart was the originator of the Project -Gutenberg-tm concept of a library of electronic works that could be -freely shared with anyone. For forty years, he produced and -distributed Project Gutenberg-tm eBooks with only a loose network of -volunteer support. - -Project Gutenberg-tm eBooks are often created from several printed -editions, all of which are confirmed as not protected by copyright in -the U.S. unless a copyright notice is included. Thus, we do not -necessarily keep eBooks in compliance with any particular paper -edition. - -Most people start at our website which has the main PG search -facility: www.gutenberg.org - -This website includes information about Project Gutenberg-tm, -including how to make donations to the Project Gutenberg Literary -Archive Foundation, how to help produce our new eBooks, and how to -subscribe to our email newsletter to hear about new eBooks. |