ed out yet. I'm envying you some, for there's a place
waiting for you in the fighting line.'

'You've got to get home and keep people's heads straight there. That's
the weak link in our chain and there's a mighty lot of work before you.'

'Maybe,' he said abstractedly, with his eye on the top of the Vendome
column.

The train that afternoon was packed with officers recalled from leave,
and it took all the combined purchase of Blenkiron and myself to get a
carriage reserved for our little party. At the last moment I opened the
door to admit a warm and agitated captain of the R.F.C. in whom I
recognized my friend and benefactor, Archie Roylance.

'Just when I was gettin' nice and clean and comfy a wire comes tellin'
me to bundle back, all along of a new battle. It's a cruel war, Sir.'
The afflicted young man mopped his forehead, grinned cheerfully at
Blenkiron, glanced critically at Peter, then caught sight of Mary and
grew at once acutely conscious of his appearance. He smoothed his hair,
adjusted his tie and became desperately sedate.

I introduced him to Peter and he promptly forgot Mary's existence. If
Peter had had any vanity in him it would have been flattered by the
frank interest and admiration in the boy's eyes. 'I'm tremendously glad
to see you safe back, sir. I've always hoped I might have a chance of
meeting you. We want you badly now on the front. Lensch is gettin' a
bit uppish.'

Then his eye fell on Peter's withered leg and he saw that he had
blundered. He blushed scarlet and looked his apologies. But they
weren't needed, for it cheered Peter to meet someone who talked of the
possibility of his fighting again. Soon the two were deep in
technicalities, the appalling technicalities of the airman. It was no
good listening to their talk, for you could make nothing of it, but it
was bracing up Peter like wine. Archie gave him a minute description of
Lensch's latest doings and his new methods. He, too, had heard the
rumour that Peter had mentioned to me at St Anton, of a new Boche
plane, with mighty engines and stumpy wings cunningly cambered, which
was a devil to climb; but no specimens had yet appeared over the line.
They talked of Bali, and Rhys Davids, and Bishop, and McCudden, and all
the heroes who had won their spurs since the Somme, and of the new
British makes, most of which Peter had never seen and had to have
explained to him.

Outside a haze had drawn over the meadows with the twilight. I poin