e hotel, and it contained a bath, but no
hot water ran into it. So I told my batman to get hot water brought
there in the mornings. The bathroom was on the first floor of the
hotel, across on the other side of the courtyard from where I slept.
The assistant cook, a man six feet odd high, and weighing about
thirteen stone, a merry, jovial great giant, used to heat water for me
and put it into an enormous bronze tub, which held a whole bathful;
and he and my batman used to carry this upstairs; but if I happened to
come along at the same time, this great man used to bend down and pick
me up with his free hand and set me on his shoulder, and so to the
bathroom.

One morning, about a year later, he told me he was going to leave. I
asked him if he had got the "sack," or if he were leaving of his own
free will. "Neither," said he. "I'm called up; I'm of age." This
great, enormous man had only then reached the age of seventeen years. (p. 044)
It amazed me. I remember a sad thing happened. When he left I gave him
fifty francs and one hundred "Gold Flake" cigarettes. He had to go
through Paris to get to his regiment, and when he arrived at the Gare
du Nord they searched him, and found the cigarettes, took them from
him, and fined him two hundred and fifty francs. It was a sad gift.

About this time I painted de Maratray--philosopher, musician,
correspondent and clown.

Fane had gone, and Captain Maude was A.P.M. Amiens. Maude was a good
A.P.M. His police were well looked after and adored him. He never
wanted an officer or man from the trenches to get into trouble, but
did his best to get them out of it when they were in it. Often have I
been sitting at dinner with him at the "Hotel de la Paix" and one of
his police would come in and say, "A young officer is at the 'Godbert,'
sir. He's had too much to drink, and is behaving very badly." Maude
would curse loudly at his dinner being spoilt, but would always leave
at once, and would calm down whatever young firebrand it was, find out
where he had to go, and have him seen off by lorry or train to his
destination. All this meant much more trouble for Maude than to have
him arrested, and much less trouble for the culprit; but he always put
them on their honour never to do it again; and many are the letters I
have seen thanking him for being "a sport," and promising never "to do
it again"; and asking would he dine with them the next time they got a
night off? That was Maude's idea: he