r lunch she recommended her to rest.

'I'm not in the least tired,' said Mary. 'I've got it all arranged. I'm
going to the village at two o'clock for some paraffin. Nellie hasn't
enough, and the walk will do me good.'

She made one last quest round the house before she started, and found
that she had overlooked nothing. It began to mist as soon as she had
skirted Vegg's Heath, where Wynn used to descend--it seemed to her that
she could almost hear the beat of his propellers overhead, but there was
nothing to see. She hoisted her umbrella and lunged into the blind wet
till she had reached the shelter of the empty village. As she came out
of Mr. Kidd's shop with a bottle full of paraffin in her string
shopping-bag, she met Nurse Eden, the village nurse, and fell into talk
with her, as usual, about the village children. They were just parting
opposite the 'Royal Oak,' when a gun, they fancied, was fired
immediately behind the house. It was followed by a child's shriek dying
into a wail.

'Accident!' said Nurse Eden promptly, and dashed through the empty bar,
followed by Mary. They found Mrs. Gerritt, the publican's wife, who
could only gasp and point to the yard, where a little cart-lodge was
sliding sideways amid a clatter of tiles. Nurse Eden snatched up a sheet
drying before the fire, ran out, lifted something from the ground, and
flung the sheet round it. The sheet turned scarlet and half her uniform
too, as she bore the load into the kitchen. It was little Edna Gerritt,
aged nine, whom Mary had known since her perambulator days.

'Am I hurted bad?' Edna asked, and died between Nurse Eden's dripping
hands. The sheet fell aside and for an instant, before she could shut
her eyes, Mary saw the ripped and shredded body.

'It's a wonder she spoke at all,' said Nurse Eden. 'What in God's name
was it?'

'A bomb,' said Mary.

'One o' the Zeppelins?'

'No. An aeroplane. I thought I heard it on the Heath, but I fancied it
was one of ours. It must have shut off its engines as it came down.
That's why we didn't notice it.'

'The filthy pigs!' said Nurse Eden, all white and shaken. 'See the
pickle I'm in! Go and tell Dr. Hennis, Miss Postgate.' Nurse looked at
the mother, who had dropped face down on the floor. 'She's only in a
fit. Turn her over.'

Mary heaved Mrs. Gerritt right side up, and hurried off for the doctor.
When she told her tale, he asked her to sit down in the surgery till he
got her something.

'But I