ly for the sake of peace.
Before we started I had another talk with Moira and endeavored to
dissuade her from accompanying us, but she very calmly told me that she
had additional reasons now for going with us. There was sure to be
trouble, she admitted that much; but then wasn't her place by my side,
more especially if things weren't all they should be? Her logic left
much to be desired, but it had the one merit of achieving its object. It
was devastating; it completely crushed all my arguments and left me
without a leg to stand on.

The late March of the year 1919 saw the three of us at the rendezvous,
which we had reached without incident of any sort. Contrary to our
expectations the other party had not been sighted, and the outlook was
certainly auspicious. For all that I felt worried. Everything was going
along too swimmingly, and I had a queer feeling that we would meet with
trouble very shortly, if only to even things up. Ease and success can
only be won after much expenditure of blood and tears; there is not a
thing in life worth trying for that can be bought with a minimum of
effort. The greater the prize, the greater the price one must pay;
always one pays, with health, with limbs, sometimes with life itself.

During the time Moira and I had been travelling together I had slept of
a night with one eye more or less open, and the strain of being
constantly on the alert was just beginning to tell on me. As a
consequence I was very pleased when Cumshaw suggested that we should
take watch and watch about. I agreed, with the reservation that I must
always be on guard for the dawn-watch. I didn't explain why I was so
anxious to take that particular watch, and, though I noticed Moira
looking curiously at me, she made no remark. I knew from experience that
men are at their sleepiest about four o'clock in the morning, and an
attack can be successfully launched then that would fail at any other
hour of the day or night. I had yet to test Cumshaw on active service,
so I claimed the four o'clock stretch for my own. It doesn't hurt to be
careful; I've never yet met anyone who was sorry he had taken
precautions.

We camped within a hundred yards of the creek, and after supper Cumshaw
and I sprawled on the grass and talked. Moira had retired to an
improvised tent we had fashioned for her, and, as it was just out of
earshot, we were free to speak our thoughts. I had not seen Cumshaw for
the better part of two weeks--he had s