aki
uniforms and disappeared into the voracious belly of the war machine;
the remainder of the battalion thrust their long legs into breeches and
boots and worked at home as land girls. Little old Mr. Fargus in his
grey suit, and the startled child Kate with one hand still up her back
in search of the errant apron string "did" what the battalion used to do
and were nightly, on the return of the giant land girls, shown how
shockingly they had done it.

Rare, therefore, the old chess and acrostic evenings and most keenly
anticipated, accordingly, this--the first for a fortnight--on the eve of
New Year's Eve. It was to have been a real long evening; but it proved
not very long. It was to have been one in which the war should be shut
out and forgotten in the delights of mental twistings and slowly puffed
pipes; it proved to be one in which "this frightful war!" was groaned
out of Sabre's spirit in emotion most terrible to him.

At ten o'clock profound gymnastics of the mind in search of a hidden
word beginning with e and ending with l were interrupted by the entry of
the startled Kate. One hand writhed between her shoulders for the apron
string, the other held a note. "Please, Mr. Sabre, I think it's for you,
Mr. Sabre. A young boy took it to your house and said you was to have it
most particular, and please, your Rebecca sent him on here, please."

"For me? Who on earth--?"

He opened it. He did not recognise the writing on the envelope. He had
not the remotest idea--It was a jolly evening.... could Enamel be that
word in e and l? He unfolded it. Ah!

"_Freddie's killed. Please do come at once. I think she's
dying.--E.B._"

CHAPTER VIII

I

He was alone in the room where Mrs. Perch lay,--not even Effie. One
o'clock. This war! He had thought to shut it away for a night, and here
was the inconceivable occupation to which it had brought him: alone in
here--

The doctor had been and was coming again in the morning. There was
nothing to be done, he had said; just watch her.

Watch her? How long had he been standing at the foot of the huge
bed--the biggest bed he had ever seen--and what was there to watch? She
gave no sign. She scarcely seemed to breathe. He would not have
recognised her face. It had the appearance of a mask. "Sinking," the
doctor had said. In process here before his eyes, but not to be seen by
them, awful and mysterious things. Death with practised fingers about
his awful and mysterious surg