his mistress again.

"I've brought him back, Missis," he said. "Here he is. Have I done well?"

* * * * *

He sits now in a little basket lined with flannel, a hero returned from
the War. Round his neck he wears the regimental colours, and on his chest
will be sewn whatever medal is given to those who have served faithfully
on the Western Front. Seated in your comfortable club, my very dear sir,
or in your delightful drawing-room, madam, you smile pityingly....

Or perhaps you don't.

GEORGE'S V.C.

(THE LAST OF THE WAR STORIES)

I

The Colonel of the Nth Blankshires was seated in his office. It was not
an imposing room to look at. Furnished simply but tastefully with a
table, officers, for use of, one, and a chair, ditto, one, it gave little
evidence of the distressing scenes which had been enacted in it, and
still less evidence of the terrible scene which was to come. Within these
walls the Colonel was accustomed to deal out stern justice to offenders,
and many a hardened criminal had been carried out fainting upon hearing
the terrible verdict, "One day's C.B."

But the Colonel was not holding the scales of justice now, for it was
late afternoon. With an expression of the utmost anxiety upon his face
he read and re-read the official-looking document which he held in his
hand. Even the photograph of the Sergeant-Major (signed, "Yours ever,
Henry"), which stood upon his desk, brought him no comfort.

The door opened and Major Murgatroyd, second in command of the famous
Blankshires, came in.

"Come in," said Colonel Blowhard.

The Major saluted impressively, and the Colonel rose and returned his
salute with the politeness typical of the British Army.

"You wished to see me, Colonel?"

"I did, Major." They saluted each other again. "A secret document of
enormous importance," went on the Colonel, "has just reached me from the
War Office. It concerns the Regiment, the dear old Regiment." Both men
saluted, and the Colonel went on hoarsely, "Were the news in this
document to become public property before its time, nothing could avert
the defeat of England in the present world-wide cataclysm."

"Is it as important as that, Colonel?" said the Major, even more hoarsely
if anything.

"It is, Major."

The Major's voice sank to a whisper.

"What would not Hindenburg give to see it," he muttered.

"Ay," said the Colonel. "I say that to myself day and night: 'What not
wha