, "I'm blasted drunk, I am! Thought I was in
old Wipers, I did, and see one of them blessed cru-crushifixes!"

The other, rather less away, pulled at his arm. "So yer did, ole pal," he
said. "It's there now. This 'ere's some Cartholic place or other. Come
_hon_."

"Strike me dead, so it is, Joe, large as life! Christ! oo'd 'ave thought
it? A bloody cru-cru-chifix! Wat's old England comin' to, Joe?" And with
drunken solemnity he began to make a sign of the cross, as he had seen it
done in Belgium.

The other, in the half-light, plainly started. "Shut your bloody jaw,
'Enery," he said, "It's bad luck to swear near a cruchifix. I saw three
chaps blotted out clean next second for it, back behind Lar Basay. Come
on, will yer? We carn't stay 'ere all the blasted night."

"You are down on a chap, you are," said the other. "_Hi_ don't mean no
'arm. '_E_ ought to know that, any'ow." He got unsteadily to his feet.
"'E died to save us, 'E did. I 'eard a Y.M.C.A. bloke say them very
words, 'E died on the cru-cru-chifix to save us."

"'Ere, cheese it, you fool! We'll have somebody out next. Come away with
yer. I've got some Bass in my place, if we git there."

At this the other consented to come. Together they staggered out, not
seeing Sir Robert, and went off down the street, "'Enery" talking as they
went. The General stood and listened as the man's voice died down.

"Good for yer, old pal. But 'E died to save us _hall_, 'E did. Made a
bloomer of it, I reckon. Didn't save us from the bloody trenches--not as
I can see, any'ow. If that chap could 'ave told us 'ow to get saved from
the blasted rats an' bugs an'...."

Sir Robert pulled himself together and walked away sharply. By the
cathedral the carven Christ hung on in the wan yellow light, very still.

CHAPTER V

Peter lay on a home-made bed between the blankets and contemplated the
ceiling while he smoked his first cigarette. He had been a fortnight at
Rouen, and he was beginning to feel an old soldier--that is to say, he
was learning not to worry too much about outside things, and not to show
he worried particularly about the interior. He was learning to stand
around and smoke endless cigarettes; to stroll in to breakfast and out
again, look over a paper, sniff the air, write a letter, read another
paper, wander round the camp, talk a lot of rubbish and listen to more,
and so do a morning's work. Occasionally he took a service, but his real
job was, as mess sec