a little distance, the group made a strange
picture--"Pervyse" wriggling and sometimes weeping; Hilda "Shsh, Shysh,
Shshing"; Rene nudging the Flemish girl, and giggling; the soldiers
peeping from the straw; the children, attracted by the outcries of
"Pervyse," drawing closer; aged worshippers continuing their droning.
"Pervyse" was held directly over the bowl and the slightly warmed water
descended on him in volume. At this he shouted with anger. His head was
dried and his white hood clapped on. He was borne to another room where
from a cupboard the Cure took down the sacred pictures, and put them
over the child's neck. Rene sat on the small stove in the corner of the
room, and it caved in with a clatter of iron. But no side-issue could
mar the ceremony which was now complete. "Pervyse" had a name and a
religion.

Then it was back again to the convent for the cake, inviting the good
old Cure to be one of the christening party. "Pervyse," his hand guided,
cut the christening cake. The candle was lighted.

As the christening party sped homeward to La Panne, Hilda looked back.
High overhead on the tower of the church, two soldiers and two officers
with field glasses were stationed, signalling to their field battery.

* * * * *

Without a mishap, they had returned to the military hospital, and
"Pervyse," thoroughly awakened by the ceremony, had been restored to his
white crib. To soften his mood, his bottle of supper had been handed to
him a little ahead of time. But, unwilling to lay aside the prominence
which had been his, all day, he brandished the bottle as if it were a
weapon instead of a soporific.

"A pretty little service," said Hilda, "but there was something pathetic
to it. The little kid looked so lonely in the damp old church. And no
one there that really belonged to him. And to-morrow or the next day or
some day, they'll get the range of this place, and then little 'Pervyse'
will join his mother and his brother and sisters. With us older ones,
it doesn't so much matter. We've had our bit of walk and talk and so
good-by. But with a child it's different. All that love and pain for
nothing. One more false start."

"By God, no!" said Hinchcliffe. "'Pervyse' shall have his chance, the
best chance a kid ever had. I've got to get back to America. There'll be
a smash if I don't. I'm a month late on the job, as it is. But 'Pervyse'
goes with me. Little Belgium is going to get his c