e you
haven't painted the gold leaves on my red tab. Don't do it till the
very last thing." It worked splendidly. The old chap was really upset.
Every hour he used to come in and tap me on the shoulder, point to the
red tab, and say: "What about it? If you don't get them gold leaves (p. 095)
proper, I'll get it from Her Ladyship." He was a great servant of the
true old class, one of those who never lose their place, no matter how
freely they are treated, and was ready to die for his master at any
minute.

[Illustration: XL. _Armistice Night. Amiens._]

Soon after this the General and his staff moved forward, and Cassel
became a dead little place as far as the Army was concerned. Things
were going very quickly, and scarcely a day passed that one could not
mark a new front line on one's map.

I went out to see the damage done to Bailleul. In a few days British
artillery had flattened it out as badly as Ypres. One could hardly
find out where the main _Place_ had been. Now one could wander all
over the Ypres salient. Was there ever a more ghastly place? Even the
Somme was outdone. Mud, water, battered tanks, hundreds of them,
battered pillboxes, everything battered and torn, with Ypres like a
skeleton. The Menin Road, the Zonnebeke Road, what sights were
there--mangled remains of superhuman effort!

I remember one day in the summer being down at Lord Beaverbrook's when
news came in that Locre had fallen. I had no knowledge of Locre, but
Lord Beaverbrook, I could see, felt that the loss of it was a very
serious thing. So I went to see Locre--a ghastly place!--the fighting
must have been terrific. Shell-holes full of dead Germans. Everything
smashed to pulp. I should imagine, before Hell visited it, Locre must
have been a very pretty little place. It is on a hill which looks down
into a valley, with Mont Kemmel rising up the other side.

Suddenly my blood poisoning came on again badly, so I returned to
Amiens on November 10. When we had just passed Doullens we got the (p. 096)
news that the Kaiser had abdicated. Great excitement prevailed
everywhere. The next day, at 11 a.m., I was working in my room and
heard guns, so I went to the window and saw the shells bursting over
the town, but I could not see the Boche 'plane. It must be very high,
I thought. About ten minutes afterwards there was a sound of cheering,
so I knew the fighting was over. I went again to the window and looked
down into the courtyard. It was emp