you escaped from those infernal Germans?"

"You see, I robbed the poor beggar of his uniform," was Bob's answer,
"and I knew their lingo; I had a near shave several times, but it was
bluff that did it."

"You're a plucky young beggar, anyhow," and the Colonel laughed almost
merrily as he spoke. "Yes, yes, my boy, you'll get mentioned in
despatches. It was a great thing you did, and Sir John French will
hear of it."

As may be imagined, Bob was questioned closely concerning his
experiences in the German lines, and when he told of his conversation
with the Kaiser, they listened to him with opened mouths.

"Good, good!" they cried again and again, as he repeated what he had
said to the Kaiser. "By George, Nancarrow, if you could get back to
England now, you would be interviewed by all the newspapers in the
country. You would be a God-send to the English Press."

But times were too stirring for more than a passing notice to be taken
of the young Cornishman's experiences.

A little later he was back at his post of duty again, little realising
that although a man might be fortune's favourite on one day, the next
might bring him dire disaster.

The next day it was evident, as appeared in Sir John French's
despatches, which we read in England later, that the German Army were
determined to throw all their strength into one crushing blow, for a
phase of the battle began, which was continued night and day, in that
part of the British Army where Bob was situated, with scarcely any
intermission.

During these four days and nights, Bob, with thousands of others, had
scarcely time to eat or sleep.

Weary hour after weary hour our men lay in the trenches, amidst pain
which amounted to torture, incessantly firing, or again, at the word of
command, ready to rush forward to meet the onset of the enemy.

Hundreds upon hundreds were killed; thousands upon thousands were
wounded. Never did Bob realise, as he realised then, the meaning of
the Prime Minister's words that "war was hell let loose." On his right
hand and on his left his comrades fell--some never to speak again;
others groaning in agony; others still laughing amidst their pain.
Strange as it may seem, when the carnage was at its most awful stage,
and when the heavens were rent with the booming of guns and the
clashing of arms, Bob could not help picturing this same France, as he
had passed through it years before.

Then it was fair and smiling and peaceful; now