side the battered building. Barkleigh walked up and
down the Grand Place, felt of the machinery of each of the two
ambulances, lit a cigarette, threw it away and chewed at an unlighted
cigar.

"It's hot," he said; "this is hot."

"And yet you are shaking as if you were chilly," observed Hilda.

"We should never have come," went on Barkleigh. "I said so, away back
there on the road. You remember I said so."

"Yes, the first experience under fire is trying," assented Hilda. "I
think the shells are the most annoying, don't you, Mr. Barkleigh? Now
shrapnel seems more friendly--quite like a hail-storm in Iowa. I come
from Iowa, you know. I don't believe you do know that I come from Iowa."

"They're slow," said Barkleigh, looking toward the Town-hall. "Why can't
they hurry them out?"

"You see," explained Hilda, "there are only three of them actively at
work, and it's quite a handful for them."

In a few moments Smith and Tom appeared, carrying a man with a bandaged
leg on their stretcher. Dr. McDonnell was leading two others, who were
able to walk with a little direction. One more trip in and out and the
ambulances were loaded.

"Back to Pervyse," ordered Dr. McDonnell.

At Pervyse, Scotch and Mrs. Bracher were ready for them. So was an
English Tommy, who singled out Ainslie-Barkleigh.

"Orders from Kitchener, sir," said the orderly. "You must return to
Dunkirk at once. No correspondent is allowed at the front."

Barkleigh listened attentively, and assented with a nod of his head. He
walked up to the three ladies.

"Very sorry," explained he. "I had hoped to stay with you, and go out
again. Very interesting and all that. But K. is strict, you know, so I
must leave you."

He bowed himself away.

"Oh, welcome intervention," breathed Mrs. Bracher.

* * * * *

A few weeks had passed with their angry weather, and now all was green
again and sunny. Seldom had the central square of Poperinghe looked
gayer than on this afternoon, when soldiers were lined up in the middle,
and on all the sides the people were standing by the tens and hundreds.
High overhead from every window and on every pole, flags were streaming
in the spring wind. Why shouldn't the populace rejoice, for had not this
town of theirs held out through all the cruel winter: refuge and rest
for their weary troops, and citadel of their King? And was not that
their King, standing over yonder on the pavement, higher than t