r saluting him as delivered his message.

"I wonder what that means," thought Bob, as he found his way towards
the spot where the Colonel was. A minute later his heart was beating
high with joy and excitement. He was informed that he was appointed to
a post of responsibility, which might be of importance. A number of
men were to be placed under his command, and great events might be
taking place in a few hours.

"I shall know definitely soon," Colonel Sapsworth said, when he had
given him some general directions. "Meanwhile you know what to do."

He had scarcely spoken, when a man came to the a tent and asked for
admission; a second later he had entered, bearing a despatch.

Colonel Sapsworth read it hastily.

"By God!" he muttered under his breath; "but I expected it!"

It was a despatch sent from the General of the Division telling him
that an attack on his forces would possibly be made that day--that men
in the Flying Corps had been able to see the general movements of the
enemy, and had brought the news that before long great masses of men
would be upon them.

A few minutes later everything was in order. The officers had each
received his instructions, and were on the _qui vive_.

It was only half an hour past daylight, and the dewdrops were still
glistening on the grass and shining on the tree-tops. It seemed as if
some occult influences were at work, and that the men were conscious of
the fact that the atmosphere was laden with tragedy, for instead of
laughter and merry jest, a strange silence prevailed.

Only one sound broke the great stillness which had fallen on the camp.
It was the sound of a body of men singing:

"O God, our help in ages past,
Our hope for years to come,
Our shelter from the stormy blast,
And our eternal home."

Bob had heard both hymn and tune a hundred times in St. Ia. He
thought, too, from the intonation of the men's voices, that they were
Cornish lads who sang. For the moment he forgot where he was, and was
oblivious to the fact that he was in the midst of a great armed host,
and that tens of thousands of men were all around him, each armed with
implements of death. He was in Cornwall again, and he was breathing
the Sabbath morning air. He heard the church bells ringing in the
distance, while the hymn he heard came from some humble Meeting House
where simple people met together for prayer and praise.

"A thousand ages in Thy sight
Are like an