sieur le Docteur's leg. One was in the front
trench and there was word passed to have the wire cutters ready, and
also bayonets, for we were to charge across the open towards the
trenches of the Germans--perhaps one hundred and fifty yards, eight
_arpents_--acres--as we say in Canada. Our big guns back did the
preparation, making what M'sieur le Docteur well knows is called a
_rideau_--a fire curtain. We climbed out of our trench with a shout and
followed the fire curtain; so closely we followed that it seemed we
should be killed by our own guns. And then it stopped--too soon, M'sieur
le Docteur. Very many Boches were left alive in that trench in front,
and they fired as we came, so that some of us were hit, and so terrible
was the fire that the rest were forced back to our own trench which we
had left. It is so sometimes in a fight, M'sieur le Docteur. The big
guns make a little mistake, and many men have to die. Yet it is for
France. And as I ran with the others for the shelter of the trench, and
as the Boches streamed out of their trench to make a counter attack with
hand-grenades I tripped on something. It was little Rene Dumont, whom
M'sieur le Docteur remembers. He guided for our camp when Josef was ill
in the hand two years ago. In any case he lay there, and I could not let
him lie to be shot to pieces. So I caught up the child and ran with him
across my shoulders and threw him in the trench, and as he went in there
was a cry behind me, 'Philippe!'

"I turned, and one waved arms at me--a comrade whom I did not know very
well--but he lay in the open and cried for help. So I thought of Jeanne
d'Arc, and how she had no fear, and was kind, and with that, back I
trotted to get the comrade. But at that second--pouf!--a big noise, and
I fell down and could not get up. It was the good new leg of M'sieur le
Docteur which those _sacres_ Boches had blown off with a hand-grenade.
So that I lay dead enough. And when I came alive it was dark, and also
the leg hurt--but yes! I was annoyed to have ruined that leg which you
gave me--M'sieur le Docteur."

I grinned, and something ached inside of me.

Philippe went on. "It was then, when I was without much hope and weak
and in pain and also thirsty, that a thing happened. It is a business
without pleasure, M'sieur le Docteur, that--to lie on a battle-field
with a leg shot off, and around one men dead, piled up--yes, and some
not dead yet, which is worse. They groan. One feels una