sent to Barry's heart a chill of
foreboding. "Good-bye, Barry," he added, shaking hands with him.

"Good-bye, sir. Good luck, sir. May I say, sir," said Barry, "that you
have helped me immensely with my duty."

"Do you say so, Barry?" said the O. C., a note of surprise in his voice.
"I'm delighted to know that."

"God keep you, sir," said Barry earnestly.

"Thank you, sir. We are in His keeping, aren't we?" and turning in his
saddle, he gave the order to advance.

Barry rode with the column to the very mouth of the communication trench
running to Pozieres, dropping into step with each company commander for
a time, and leaving each with a cheery word of farewell. At the mouth
of the trench, he stood watching the men as they stepped down and out
of his sight, giving them a word of good cheer and good luck as they
passed, and receiving in return answering smiles and greetings. Then
with eyes unseeing, he rode back to camp, heavy of heart, for he knew
well that many of these faces he would see no more.

The zero hour was fixed for five a. m. the following morning. As the
hour drew near, Barry at his work in the C. C. S., found in his heart
the words of the psalm, "My soul wait thou only upon God . . . I shall
not be moved." That wounds and death were awaiting many of them he well
knew, and his prayer was that they might meet the fate appointed them
with unshaken faith and courage.

By seven o'clock the wounded began to arrive and an hour later the C.
A. M. C. marquee was filled to overflowing with a cue of wounded men
forming outside in the falling rain. The suffering in their pale and
patient faces stirred in him a poignant sympathy. There was the chaplain
service tent adjoining. He ran to find the chaplain in charge.

"Tell me," he said, "may we use your marquee for wounded men?"

"Sure thing. It will never be used for a better purpose."

Barry returned to the O. C. of the C. C. S.

"Why not direct that a part of this stream be sent to the adjoining tent
for registration, and for anti-tetanus hypodermics? These poor chaps are
standing out in the rain, chilled to the bone and ready to drop."

"For Heaven's sake do it," said the O. C. "We are really up against it
here. Can you take that off my hands?"

"I'll try," said Barry.

In a few minutes the congestion at the door of the marquee was relieved
and the wounded men, to their own vast comfort, were bestowed upon the
benches and chairs in the chaplain servi