s, so
there was no need for me to make a list, and of course I didn't attempt
any treatment. It wouldn't have been any use, sir, when the men were
dead."

III ~~ A MATTER OF DISCIPLINE

O'Byrne, the Reverend Timothy, is our padre. We call him Tim behind his
back because we like him and Padre to his face because some respect is
due to his profession. Mackintosh is our medical officer. The Reverend
Tim used to take a special delight in teasing Mackintosh. It may have
been the natural antipathy, the cat and dog feeling, which exists
between parsons and doctors. I do not know.

But the padre never lost a chance of pulling the doctor's leg, and
Mackintosh spent hours proving that the things which the padre says he
saw could not possibly have happened I should not like to call any padre
a liar; but some of the Rev. Tim's stories were rather tall, and the
doctor's scepticism always goaded him to fresh flights of imagination.

The mess was a much livelier place after the Rev. Tim joined it. Before
he attached himself to us we used to wonder why God made men like
Mackintosh, and what use they are in the world.

Now we know. Mackintosh exists to call out all that is best in our
padre.

One night--the battalion was back resting at the time--we had an
Assistant Provost Marshal as a guest The conversation turned on the
subject of deserters, and our A.P.M. told us some curious stories about
the attempts made by these poor devils to escape the net of the military
organization.

"The fact is," said the A.P.M., "that a deserter hasn't a dog's chance,
not here in France anyway. We are bound to get him every time."

"Not every time," said the padre. "I know one who has been at large for
months and you'll never lay hands on him."

The A.P.M., who did not of course know our padre, sat up and frowned.

"I don't think it's his fault that he's a deserter," said the padre. "He
was forced into it And anyway, even if I give you his name and tell you
exactly where he is, you'll not arrest him."

"If he's a deserter, I will," said the A.P.M.

"No, you won't," said the padre. "Excuse my contradicting you, but when
you hear the story you'll see yourself that you can't arrest the man.
Mackintosh here is protecting him."

"Is it me?" said Mackintosh. "I'd like you to be careful what you're
saying. In my opinion it's libellous to say that I'm protecting a
deserter. I'll have you court-martialled, Mr. O'Byrne, padre or no
padre.