nchmen who escaped
from Germany and an Englishman with them--mais oui! but--vraiment! I
have read this same story quite lately. Ah! I have it. You, then,
are Henri and Jules for certain?"

The two young soldiers admitted the fact with rising colour, while the
glances of every man in the squad were cast at them, and the Sergeant,
that smart little fellow who had first dressed the line and adjusted
every buckle and every accoutrement, turned a pair of admiring eyes on
them. As for the officer, he gripped each one by the hand and shook it
warmly.

"It's an example to us all, mes enfants," he told the squad. "There is
great honour to our big friend here who has seen such fighting
throughout the first days of the war, the Retreat, that Battle of the
Marne where we smashed the crowing German, the conflict near Arras and
round Ypres, which barred the progress of our enemy. To such a man
there is undying honour. But here we have two who, though wretched, no
doubt, while confined in a German prison, half-starved, by all
accounts, bullied and browbeaten, could yet have remained in that camp
safe from the danger of warfare. But they wished to help their
country; and see them here, joining up with our forces at the very
first moment. And so, Jules and Henri, you would wish to go to the
front almost immediately?"

The two nodded their assent.

"And you have had training?"

"Pardon, monsieur," said the Sergeant, opening a book and placing his
finger on the name first of Henri and then of Jules; "here is their
record. Three years ago they did their training and attended
manoeuvres, and were reported on as excellent conscripts. In the
ordinary way they would attend a few drills here, perhaps go through a
short instruction in musketry and bayonet exercises, and then be
drafted to the front."

"Bien! There is little else after that for them to learn but bombing
and the warfare peculiar to trench fighting--such as the conduct of
trench-mortars, catapults, and other weapons of a similar
description--that they can well learn at the schools of instruction
just behind the front. Pass them for the front, Sergeant. Put them
down to go with a new draft which leaves for Verdun to-morrow evening.
Good luck, my friends! I wish, indeed, that I could come with you."

"Re-form line!" bellowed the Sergeant, or, rather, he snapped the
order, and at his words those who had stood forward a pace stepped back
just as smartly, while