mpelling
the motor to stop until I got in. I considered that my being able to
stop the car was really a part of the providing. In fact I found that,
if one only had courage to stand long enough in the middle of the road
without moving, almost any car, were it that of a private or a general,
would come to a standstill. It was only a natural thing, when the car
had stopped, to go to the occupants and say, "I know the Lord has sent
you for the purpose of giving me a lift." It was quite a natural
consequence of this for me to be taken in. One day at Estaires I tried
to commandeer a fine car standing in the square, but desisted when I
was informed by the driver that it was the private property of the (p. 047)
Prince of Wales. I am sure that if the Prince had been there to hear the
text, he would have driven me anywhere I wanted to go.

On the present occasion, I had not gone far down the road before a car
picked me up and took me on my way--an incident which I narrated to
the General afterwards with intense satisfaction.

CHAPTER V. (p. 048)

BEFORE THE STORM.

_March to April, 1915._

Our rest-time at Estaires at the end of March was a delightful period
of good fellowship. The beautiful early spring was beginning to assert
its power over nature. The grass was green. The trees and hedgerows
were full of sap and the buds ready to burst into new life. As one
walked down the roads in the bright sunshine, and smelt the fresh
winds bearing the scent of springtime, an exquisite feeling of delight
filled the soul. Birds were singing in the sky, and it was pitiful to
think that any other thoughts but those of rapture at the joy of
living should ever cross the mind.

A sergeant found me a comfortable billet in a house near the Church. A
dear old man and his two venerable daughters were the only occupants.
Like all the French people we met, their little home was to them a
source of endless joy. Everything was bright and clean, and they took
great pleasure in showing off its beauties. There was a large room
with glass roof and sides, like a conservatory. On the wall was the
fresco of a landscape, drawn by some strolling artist, which gave my
hosts infinite delight. There was a river flowing out of some very
green woods, with a brilliant blue sky overhead. We used to sit on
chairs opposite and discuss the woodland scene, and I must say it
brought back memories to me