of honey, a bottle of Benedictine, a pair of
unmentionable garments for Lawson, and a toothbrush--so that I walked
across the main square with a proud mien and an easy conscience.

Pride, they tell us, comes before a fall. We had successfully fought our
way through the crowds of officers and mess waiters who swarm in
Bailleul, we had completed our purchases, we were refreshing ourselves
in a diminutive tea shop, when the Captain suddenly slapped his thigh.

"By Jove," he said, "I promised to buy a new saucepan for the Company
cook. Good job I remembered."

What on earth was the French for a saucepan? I had no opportunity of
looking in my dictionary, for it would look too suspicious if I were to
consult my Service Bible during tea.

"I don't think we shall have time to look for an ironmonger's," I said.

"You blithering ass," said the Captain, "there's one just across the
road. Besides, we don't have dinner before eight as a rule."

The fates were working against me. I made one more effort to save my
reputation. "We should look so funny, sir, riding through Bailleul with
a great saucepan. We might send the Company cook to buy one to-morrow."

I remained in suspense for a few moments as the Captain chose another
cake. He looked up suddenly. "We'll get it home all right," he said,
"but I believe the fact of the matter is that you don't know what to ask
for."

"We'll go and get the beastly thing directly after tea," I said stiffly,
for it is always offensive to have doubts cast on one's capabilities,
the more so when those doubts are founded on fact. Besides, I knew the
Captain would love to see me at a loss, as French has been his touchy
point ever since the day when, having a sore throat, he set out to buy a
cure for it himself. The chemist, mistaking his French and his gestures,
had politely led him to the door and pointed out a clothier's across the
way, expressing his regret the while that chemists in France do not sell
collars.

When we entered the ironmonger's shop I could see nothing in the shape
of a saucepan that I could point out to the man, so I made a shot in the
dark. "Je desire," I said, "une soucoupe."

"Parfaitement, m'sieu," said the shopman, and he produced a host of
saucers of every description--saucers in tin, saucers in china, saucers
big and little.

"What in the name of all that's wonderful are you getting those things
for?" asked the Captain irritably. "We want a saucepan."

I feigned