word I
must remind you of--salvage. As one of your own staff explained it to me
one perceives an object necessary to certain operations. If on saluting
that object it fails to return the salute I believe the next step is to
capture it. Am I not right?"

But I regret to say that he merely picked up his cap and went out of our
sitting room, banging the door behind him.

To return. We reached the church safely, and from that working out in
different directions we began our unhappy search. However, as it was
still very dark I evidently lost my sense of direction, and while
peering into a cellar was suddenly shocked by feeling a revolver thrust
against my back.

"You are my prisoner," said a voice. "Move and I'll fire."

It was, however, only Tish. We were both despondent by that time, and
agreed to give up the search. As it happened it was well we did so, for
we had no more than reached the church and seated ourselves on the
doorstep in deep dejection when the enemy rushed the village. I confess
that my immediate impulse was flight, but Tish was of more heroic stuff.

"They are coming, Lizzie," she said. "If you wish to fly go now. I shall
remain. I have too many tender memories of Aggie to desert her."

She then rose and went without haste into the church, which was sadly
changed by shell fire in the last two hours, and I followed her. By the
aid of the flashlight, cautiously used, we made our way to a break in
the floor and Tish suggested that we retire to the cellar, which we did,
descending on piles of rubbish. The noise in the street was terrible by
that time, but the cellar was quiet enough, save when now and then a
fresh portion of the roof gave way.

I was by this time exceedingly nervous, and Tish gave me a mouthful of
cordial. She herself was quite calm.

"We must give them time to quiet down," she said. "They sound quite
hysterical, and it would be dangerous to be discovered just now. Perhaps
we would better find a sheltered spot and get some sleep. I shall need
my wits clear in the morning."

It was fortunate for us that the French use the basements of their
churches for burying purposes, for by crawling behind a marble
sarcophagus we found a sort of cave made by the debris. Owing to that
protection the grenades the enemy threw into the cellar did no harm
whatever, save to waken Tish from a sound sleep.

"Drat them anyhow!" she said. "I was just dreaming that Mr. Ostermaier
had declined a raise in hi