and pictures and furniture were strewn
about--some of which we used in the trenches. A case of wine had been
left behind unbroached. A cat left behind, that refused to quit, bore a
charmed life--never was hit--and often ran about on the parapet. The
parapet barricade of sandbags was called "The High Jump," because we had
to mount it and get over it each night and jump for our lives, to take
up our positions by our advanced listening and observation post. It was
absolutely fatal for anyone to show himself on the road in the daytime.
Many a time we should have liked to have stretched our legs, but dared
not. But after the fourth day we did actually get on the road, as the
enemy shifted their position, and the relief was wonderful. It had been
a speculation whether we or the Germans would get on the road, and after
dislodging them we managed it. Our men ran about, some skipping with
a piece of wire, others rolling on the ground, in their enjoyment of
newly-found freedom, occasional spent bullets reaching us from a great
distance. The position was always referred to as "Hole in the Wall."

CHAPTER IX.

GERMAN BEASTS IN A FRENCH CONVENT.

It is fitting that my sketch of a French Convent, as the abode of holy
women whose innocent lives were dedicated and devoted to the service of
the Prince of Peace, should stand by itself, apart from any drawings
suggesting less faintly the devilry of war. The nunnery had been in the
possession of the Germans for some short time before we arrived on the
scene, and bore traces of their customary depredations and violations.
The stories related by the nuns themselves were not of a description to
bear retailing in the public Press. I would to God that they could be
told to every coward of a shirker at home, to every skunk of a
"conscientious objector," to every rat of a "stop-the-war"
"pacificist." They would stir to boiling indignation the dregs of their
manhood--if they have any dregs. They would make them sick--even them;
and I should like them all to be sick--sick unto death. There are not
many of them, all told, but they are noisy as well as noisome. The good
sisters hailed the British as deliverers, and gave us a welcome I can
neither describe nor forget.

[Illustration: A VIOLATED CONVENT.]

The enemy had abstained from destroying the building, probably from a
subtle motive. They had retired to a wood in the rear. We made a sharp
attack upon them to the right of this wood t