yhow, the man who has you as a nurse may thank his lucky stars," he
said aloud, "and of this you may be sure, if there's any chance of our
meeting, I shall make the most of it. Trust me for that."

That same day Trevanion made his way back to Plymouth with a glad
heart. He regarded his engagement with Nancy as good as settled, for
he knew that she regarded even the suggestion of a promise as sacred.
Besides, he had everything in his favour. He knew that the old Admiral
favoured his suit, and would do his best to remove any doubts which
might exist in Nancy's mind. As for Bob Nancarrow, he was a negligible
quantity. Nancy had driven him out of the house with scorn and anger
in her heart. How could it be otherwise? The fellow was an outsider,
a poltroon, a coward. He knew how Nancy despised such; knew that even
if she loved him, she would regard it as a sacred duty to crush a love
which to her would be a disgrace to the name she bore.

Thus it came about that all three found themselves on French soil. The
Captain went at the head of a Cornish regiment, brave and fearless,
determined to do his duty as a soldier should. The ethics of the war
had never cost him a moment's thought. England was at war, and that
was enough for him. He was needed in the firing-line, and he, without
a question or a reason, save that he was a soldier, must be there.

Nancy, on the other hand, went because she wanted to nurse--to save.
It was a woman's work--the noblest any woman could do. She was not
allowed to fight herself, although she would gladly have done so; but
even although she could not fight, she would be near the line of
battle. She would do all in her power for the brave fellows who had
fallen in fighting their country's battles.

As for Bob, he was there because he had listened to what he was sure
was the Call of God. He hated war, he hated the soldiers' calling,
and, because he hated it, he was there. Not one in the whole of His
Majesty's Army was more eager to be in the thick of the fight than he,
because he wanted to take his part in killing the war devil which had
turned a great part of Europe into a hell.

CHAPTER XVI

September was nearly at an end when Bob, alighting at a little station,
heard the booming of guns. The country-side seemed quiet and peaceful
but for this. There were evidences that fighting had been going on,
but at present no fighting was to be seen. The sky was a great dome of
blu