ething of all this did Draycott feel at that moment; something which
caught him and shook him and mocked him. Something which whispered,
"You ass, you wretched ass! You think it's you who will suffer; you
think it's you who will be acclaimed a hero. Fool! Your sufferings,
your achievements, whether you live or die, are as nothing to those of
these two women. You may wear the cross for a moment's heroism: they
bear it all the time. And they get no praise; they just endure." . . .

Yes; something like that struck him for the first time as being
personally applicable to himself. And having looked thoughtfully out
of the window for a moment, he laughed gently, and then he spoke.

"That's the fellow," he remarked quietly. "An' if the tea ain't cold
I'll take another dish. Three glasses of the old man's port, Dolly, is
enough. I had four last night."

XII

A week later he sat in a mud bath at Havre, which went by the name of a
rest camp; the Way to the Land was nearly trodden. Thousands of others
had sat in that glutinous mud before him; hundreds of thousands were
destined to do so after. And each and all of them were thinking men;
wondering in a greater or less degree according to the size and
activity of their grey matter what it was all about. To some the
Unknown gave the prospect of sport, and they thanked their stars they
were nearly there; to some it gave the prospect of Duty, and they
trusted they would not fail. With some the fear of the future blotted
out their curiosity; with others curiosity left no room for fear. But
in every case they had something to think about--even if it were only
the intense discomfort of their surroundings. And in every case the
woman over the water had--nothing.

By cattle trucks and carriages, by so-called fast trains and unabashed
troop trains they left in batches big and small; and others came and
filled the gaps. The Land was calling; the Seed must not be delayed.

* * * * * *

"You'll have to wait till it's dark." A weary Quartermaster, wandering
through Ypres, met Draycott and stopped. "Thank God! you've come.
We've got three officers left and a hundred and twenty men."

"Where are they?" he demanded. "How shall I find them?"

"Very likely you won't." The other laughed mirthlessly. "I'll take
you up to-night--we walk the last bit to the trenches. If a flare goes
up--stand still; there's no other rule."

"You're about done in, Sey