m up", to use a slang expression; and
now, just the mention of the gallant Stuart, that very breezy, hefty
Englishman, fixed Henri's wandering thoughts for a moment on a far more
pleasant subject, and seemed to help to steady his reeling brain, and
first set him giggling and then laughing merrily.

"You'll think I'm an old woman," he told Jules at last, shaking himself
like a dog.

"Indeed! Like an old woman? Well, now, old women don't usually fight
terrific combats at the top of a stone stairway, and finally tumble
headlong down that same stairway locked in the arms of a German.
Polite old women don't do their utmost to strangle the subjects of the
Kaiser; now do they, Henri? And, besides--of course this is only a
very small matter--such old women as you have mentioned don't, when
they've got a chance to escape the notice of such sinister gentlemen as
we have been associating with lately--I mean that Max beggar and his
Brandenburg fellows, who would shoot a helpless prisoner--such old
bodies don't as a rule, mind you, get hold of a bomb and sling it
amongst them.

"It was fine--fine!" Jules told his chum, stretching out a hand and
gripping Henri's energetically.

"Oh, rot!" Henri contrived to stutter. He was getting quite indignant
now. "What utter nonsense you are talking! As if any old woman would
fight a German!"

"Just so! That's why I retorted when you asked me if, or rather
suggested that, I thought that you were one."

"Look here!" began Henri, quite nettled, and becoming increasingly
impatient, whereat Jules grinned. Indeed, it was his turn to be
amused, for intuitively in the darkness he had guessed at Henri's
condition; and knowing already how shaken he was, how nearly on the
verge of unconsciousness, he had racked his brain for some method which
might revive him. Stimulants, water, food, things of that sort, were
out of the question; words alone could be employed, and somehow the
clever Jules had contrived to pick the proper subject. The mention of
Stuart, then, had helped to revive his friend; and now mention of
Henri's gallantry had made the owner of that name quite indignant.

"Utter rot!" shouted Henri again; "as if slinging a bomb was dangerous;
and as if----"

"There's one thing you can't deny," said Jules; "it saved my life, as
it was designed to do, and I've not forgotten. But how d'you feel?
Better, eh? Don't forget that we've lost sight of that German."

As if Henri had ever