landing, and to hope that Donovan would be going his way. No one had
said a word about it. He looked round for Jenks' nurse, but couldn't see
her.

It was jolly entering the port. The French houses and fishing-boats
looked foreign, although one could hardly say why. On the quay was a big
notice: "All officers to report at once to the M.L.O." Farther on was a
board bearing the letters "R.T.O." ... But Peter hardly liked to ask.

In fact, everything went like clockwork. He presently found himself
in a queue, behind Donovan, of officers who were passing a small
window like a ticket office. Arriving, he handed in papers, and was
given them back with a brief "All right." Beyond, Donovan had secured
a broken-down-looking one-horse cab. "You'll be coming to the club,
padre?" he asked. "Chuck in your stuff. This chap'll take it down and
Bevan with it. Let's walk. It isn't far."

Jenks elected to go with his friend the Major, and Donovan and Peter
set off over the cobbles. They joined up with another small group, and
for the first time Peter had to give his name as he was introduced. He
forgot the others, as soon as he heard them, and they forgot his. A big
Dublin Fusilier officer with a tiny moustache, that seemed ludicrous
in his great face, exchanged a few sentences with him. They left the
quay and crossed a wide space where a bridge debouched towards the
railway-station. Donovan, who was walking ahead, passed on, but the
Fusilier suggested to Peter that they might as well see the R.T.O. at
once about trains. Entering the station gates, the now familiar initials
appearing on a row of offices before them to the left, Peter's companion
demanded the train to Albert.

"Two-thirty a.m., change at Amiens, sir," said a clerk in uniform within,
and the Fusilier passed on.

"What time is the Rouen train?" asked Peter in his turn, and was told
9.30 p.m.

"You're in luck, padre," said the other. "It's bally rotten getting in at
two-thirty, and probably the beastly thing won't go till five. Still, it
might be worse. You can get on board at midnight, and with luck get to
sleep. If I were you, I'd be down here early for yours--crowded always,
it is. Of course, you'll dine at the club?"

Peter supposed he would.

The club entrance was full up with officers, and more and more kept
pouring in. Donovan was just leaving the counter on the right with some
tickets in his hand as they pushed in. "See you later," he called out.
"I've got