willows by the
watercourses, and in the orchards by the red-roofed hamlets the blossom
was breaking. In such a scene it was hard to keep the mind sober and
grey, and the pall of war slid from us. Mary cosseted and fussed over
Peter like an elder sister over a delicate little boy. She made him
stretch his bad leg full length on the seat, and when she made tea for
the party of us it was a protesting Peter who had the last sugar
biscuit. Indeed, we were almost a merry company, for Blenkiron told
stories of old hunting and engineering days in the West, and Peter and
I were driven to cap them, and Mary asked provocative questions, and
Wake listened with amused interest. It was well that we had the
carriage to ourselves, for no queerer rigs were ever assembled. Mary,
as always, was neat and workmanlike in her dress; Blenkiron was
magnificent in a suit of russet tweed with a pale-blue shirt and
collar, and well-polished brown shoes; but Peter and Wake were in
uniforms which had seen far better days, and I wore still the boots and
the shapeless and ragged clothes of Joseph Zimmer, the porter from
Arosa.

We appeared to forget the war, but we didn't, for it was in the
background of all our minds. Somewhere in the north there was raging a
desperate fight, and its issue was the true test of our success or
failure. Mary showed it by bidding me ask for news at every
stopping-place. I asked gendarmes and _Permissionnaires_, but I learned
nothing. Nobody had ever heard of the battle. The upshot was that for
the last hour we all fell silent, and when we reached Paris about seven
o'clock my first errand was to the bookstall.

I bought a batch of evening papers, which we tried to read in the taxis
that carried us to our hotel. Sure enough there was the announcement in
big headlines. The enemy had attacked in great strength from south of
Arras to the Oise; but everywhere he had been repulsed and held in our
battle-zone. The leading articles were confident, the notes by the
various military critics were almost braggart. At last the German had
been driven to an offensive, and the Allies would have the opportunity
they had longed for of proving their superior fighting strength. It
was, said one and all, the opening of the last phase of the war.

I confess that as I read my heart sank. If the civilians were so
over-confident, might not the generals have fallen into the same trap?
Blenkiron alone was unperturbed. Mary said nothing, but she