of our young fellows; and the poise of
his head, the erectness of his lithe figure, a symbol of what one is
accustomed to in Britons wherever they are met. That one gathered from
a mere casual glance; though a second glance--a more penetrating one,
we will say, one with a trifle more curiosity thrown into it--would
have discovered other points still bearing out the same assumption as
to Henri's nationality, and leaving hardly a suspicion that in point of
fact he was French--as French as they make them.

For, putting aside the fact that this young gentleman was dressed in
clothes unmistakably British, tailored, in fact, in the heart of
fashionable London, his features, as well as his figure and his method
of progress, pointed to a British origin. Not, let us add, that there
is need to make comparisons between the appearance of young men of
France and those of our country, nor need to exploit the one against
the other. That there are essential differences between the two
nationalities all will admit--differences accentuated, no doubt, in the
great majority of cases by dress, by manner, and by environment.

But Henri--what nationality could he have belonged to other than
British--with those rosy cheeks, that fresh complexion, and that little
perky moustache which adorned his upper lip? His "How do you do?" in
the purest English as he met a companion in the street was as devoid of
accent as would have been that of a habitue of London. There was
nothing exaggerated about his method of raising his hat to a lady whom
he passed, no gesticulations, no active nervous movements of his hands,
and none of that shrugging of the shoulders which, public opinion has
it, is so eminently characteristic of our Gallic neighbours. And yet
the young man was French.

Striding down one of Berlin's main streets in that summer of 1914, now
so historic, he was chatting amiably with his chum, Jules Epain, a
resident, like himself, of Berlin.

"So it's war, eh?" he asked his chum in French.

"War?"

There was silence for a little while, and then from Jules: "And we are
here, in Berlin, the Kaiser's city!"

"Just so!" from Henri; "and, Jules, my boy, the sooner we take steps to
move along the better. I have taken tickets for England already, and
don't forget we are English."

There again, without a doubt, the appearance of Henri's friend would
assist the suggestion which he had just mentioned. English? Yes, if
Henri looked a Briti