ur, there to await the arrival of the
French Mail, that was to convey them to Europe. The sun beat down hot
upon them, in their unaccustomed shoes and khaki, the harbour waves
tossed violently, and the French Mail was late. Eventually it arrived,
however, and they all scrambled aboard, passing along a narrow
gangplank from which four of them slipped and were drowned in the sea.
But four out of five hundred was a small matter, quite insignificant.

When the French Mail arrived at Saigon, Ouk was able to replenish his
supply of betel nut and sirra leaves, buying them from coolies in
bobbing sampans, which sampans had been allowed to tie themselves to
the other side of the steamer. At Singapore also he bought himself
more betel nut and sirra leaves, but after leaving Singapore he was
unable to replenish his stock, and consequently suffered. Every one
with him, in that great company of volunteers, also suffered. It was
an unexpected deprivation. The ship ploughed along, however, the
officers taking small notice of Ouk and his kind--indeed, they only
referred to Ouk by number, for no one of those in authority could
possibly remember the outlandish names of these heathen. Nor did their
names greatly matter.

Time passed, the long voyage was over, and Ouk landed at Marseilles.
In course of time he found himself placed in a small town in one of
the provinces, the very town from which Maubert had been released to
go to the Front. Thus it happened that there were as many men in that
town as had been taken away from it, only the colour and the race of
the men had changed. The nationality of all of them, however, was the
same--they were all subjects of the mighty French Empire or Democracy,
and in France race prejudice is practically nil. Therefore Ouk, who
worked in a munition factory, found himself regarded with curiosity
and with interest, though not with prejudice. Thus it happened that
Madame Maubert found herself gazing at Ouk one evening, from behind
the safe security of her zinc covered bar. Curiosity and interest were
in her soul, but no particular sense of racial superiority. Ouk and
some companions, speaking together in heathen jargon, were seated
comfortably at one of the little yellow tables of the cafe, learning
to drink wine in place of the betel nut of which they had been
deprived. All through the day they worked in one of the big factories,
but in the evenings they were free, and able to mix with civilization
and