on Dymchurch beach?
Something, he knew, had happened to London--a bombardment. But who had
bombarded? Were Tom and Jessica too being chased by strange brown men
with long bare swords and evil eyes? He thought of various possible
aspects of affliction, but presently one phase ousted all the others.
Were they getting much to eat? The question haunted him, obsessed him.

If one was very hungry would one eat rats?

It dawned upon him that a peculiar misery that oppressed him was not so
much anxiety and patriotic sorrow as hunger. Of course he was hungry!

He reflected and turned his steps towards the little refreshment shed
that stood near the end of the ruined bridge. "Ought to be somethin'--"

He strolled round it once or twice, and then attacked the shutters
with his pocket-knife, reinforced presently by a wooden stake he found
conveniently near. At last he got a shutter to give, and tore it back
and stuck in his head.

"Grub," he remarked, "anyhow. Leastways--"

He got at the inside fastening of the shutter and had presently this
establishment open for his exploration. He found several sealed bottles
of sterilized milk, much mineral water, two tins of biscuits and a crock
of very stale cakes, cigarettes in great quantity but very dry, some
rather dry oranges, nuts, some tins of canned meat and fruit, and plates
and knives and forks and glasses sufficient for several score of people.
There was also a zinc locker, but he was unable to negotiate the padlock
of this.

"Shan't starve," said Bert, "for a bit, anyhow." He sat on the vendor's
seat and regaled himself with biscuits and milk, and felt for a moment
quite contented.

"Quite restful," he muttered, munching and glancing about him
restlessly, "after what I been through.

"Crikey! WOT a day! Oh! WOT a day!"

Wonder took possession of him. "Gaw!" he cried: "Wot a fight it's been!
Smashing up the poor fellers! 'Eadlong! The airships--the fliers and
all. I wonder what happened to the Zeppelin?... And that chap Kurt--I
wonder what happened to 'im? 'E was a good sort of chap, was Kurt."

Some phantom of imperial solicitude floated through his mind. "Injia,"
he said....

A more practical interest arose.

"I wonder if there's anything to open one of these tins of corned beef?"

3

After he had feasted, Bert lit a cigarette and sat meditative for a
time. "Wonder where Grubb is?" he said; "I do wonder that! Wonder if any
of 'em wonder about me?"

He reverte