beginning of it, David, who had been amusing himself in Madrid by
teaching the elements of grammar and a large vocabulary of English slang
to any Spaniard who would pay for it, came home and enlisted with
Jonathan in a line regiment. For two months they drilled and exercised
themselves in the so-called "arts of war." Then, chiefly on account of
a soulless section commander, they applied for, and obtained,
commissions in the same regiment.

In the same billet, they re-lived their schooldays, and over the fire in
the evenings would call up old memories, or David would tell of his
adventures abroad, until late in the night.

When the time came for them to go to the front, the Fates still favoured
them; they went out together to the same regiment in France, and were
drafted to the same company. Together they went up to the trenches for
the first time, together they worked, together they crouched under the
parapet when the German shells came unpleasantly close, and, all the
time, Jonathan, calm and stolid, unconsciously helped the other, who,
being cursed with a vivid imagination, secretly envied his friend's
calm.

Now, nothing has more power to cement or break friendships than war. The
enforced company, the sharing of danger, the common bearing of all
imaginable discomforts combine to make comrades or enemies. There are so
many things to tax one's patience, that a real friend in whom one may
confide becomes doubly dear, while you end by hating a man who has the
misfortune to irritate you day after day. War made David and Jonathan
realise how much their friendship meant, and how necessary each was to
the other, the one because of his continued calm, the other because of
the relief his love of music and of Nature brought with it.

II

Near the end of April 1915 they came back to billets near Ypres. To the
north a terrific battle was in progress, the last inhabitants were
fleeing from the town, and huge shells screamed on their way, and burst
with appalling clouds of smoke among the already shattered houses.
Occasionally a motor cyclist would come racing down the road, and, once
or twice, an ambulance came by with its load of gassed and wounded from
the fighting to the north.

One morning, when the Germans seemed fairly quiet, David and Jonathan
set out arm in arm towards Ypres, to explore. An occasional shell--a
hum, increasing until it became a roar, followed, a moment after, by a
fearful explosion--warned them no