had a headache to-night--good. You can make the excuse in the
morning to visit the pharmacy in Shaftesbury Avenue. I need not tell you
where you will really go. But tell them that word must be sent to Fritz
Hoffer to take me off at the old spot at seven o'clock to-morrow night."

"Are you certain of a train that will get you there in time?"

"I shall not bother about trains," he replied. "The Kilburn Rifles are
doing coast duty there, and I will borrow Dennis Dashwood's motor-bike
ten minutes after their car has left for Charing Cross. I shall be in
the vicinity of Folkestone before their train arrives, and may possibly
pass them in the Channel."

* * * * *

"Sure everything's in?" said Captain Bob with a keen glance round the
hall, which looked so pathetically empty now that the little pile of
brown cases had been carried to the car. "Well, time's up. Au revoir,
mon lieutenant. I must air my bad French, you know," and he shook hands
warmly with the "Belgian officer," who stood bareheaded on the step to
see them off. "Hope to meet you over there one of these days. Buck up
and get all right, you know."

"We shall meet, never fear; perhaps sooner than you think," said Van
Drissel with a quiet smile. "Good-bye and good luck to you both."

Then the skunk saluted, and the car drove off, Mademoiselle Ottilie
waving her handkerchief. Now they were gone, and as the three little
girls filed back into the hall wiping their eyes, the Van Drissels
exchanged a look.

"You have nothing that matters if you leave it behind?" said the man.

"Nothing at all--a refugee is not supposed to have belongings," replied
his wife.

"Very well, do not go yet until you have heard me start the engine. Then
when I have gone, walk quietly out of the house just as you are. They
might trace a taxi."

* * * * *

The motor-car came to a stand outside Charing Cross Station, and Mrs.
Dashwood's heart seemed to come to a stand with it. In less than half an
hour she knew she would have parted with her boys, perhaps for the last
time, but she kept a brave face as Bob helped her out, and they found
themselves on the fringe of the busy throng that every day marks the
departure of the boat-train.

There were not quite so many people as usual, for nearly all leave had
been stopped.

A porter, well over military age, followed them through the barrier on
to No. 2 platform, where the long