's richt," said the Scotchman as he watched him go. "Tom
Pollard, man, I hinna prayed for years, but I am praying to-nicht. I
ought to be a different man, for I ken the fundamentals of releegion,
but I'm giving my heart to God to-nicht; I am for sure."

Tom followed the Scotchman out of the canteen towards one of the
numerous sleeping-huts.

"I am giving my heart to God, Pollard," he said hoarsely, "and I'm
writing to tell my mither about it this very nicht. Ay, man, something
has come into my life stronger than the power of whisky!"

When Tom found his way to his own sleeping-hut that night, he was in a
chastened frame of mind. "I'm noan going to turn religious," he said
almost sullenly, "but I believe he's got the reight on't."

The next morning they were at Folkestone, where the big troopship lay
in the harbour. Before mid-day the ship was crowded with soldiers.
How many men were there Tom had not the slightest idea; but they filled
every part of it. Generals, colonels, majors, non-commissioned
officers, and privates were all huddled together. All over the ship
officers and men were alike; they were going to the field of battle to
die if need be for honour, duty, and the liberty of the world.

There were scarcely a score of civilians on board, and even they were
in some way attached to the Army. Nurses wearing the Red Cross,
religious workers with a look of wonder in their eyes, a few sent by
the Government on some particular mission, but all were taking part in
the great War which was staggering the world.

Perhaps a mile or more out at sea a great Destroyer proudly spurned the
waves; she was to guard the troopship along her perilous passage.

Presently they landed at Boulogne.

"Where are we going?" said one of the soldiers in Tom's company as they
entered a waiting train.

"I don't know," said Tom, "but what does it matter? We have nowt to do
with that, we have just got to do our job."

They spent all the night in the troop-train, which was crowded almost
to suffocation. Where they were going they didn't know, scarcely
cared. Sometimes they were drawn up to a siding where they would stay
for hours, then the train crawled on again. Presently the morning
broke and Tom saw a flat and what seemed to him, after Surrey, an
uninteresting piece of country. Everything was strange to him, even
the trees looked different from those he had seen in Surrey. On and on
the train crawled, until presently t