it alive you'd never grumble at anything again?'" said
Ernest.

My reply was in the affirmative.

We were silent for a while, remorse weighing heavily upon us.

"The worst case," said Ernest at length, "was when I got my commission
and came home for my kit."

I composed myself to listen, piously determined not to grumble however
tedious I might find his recital.

"We'd been near a place called Ypres," he began.

"I seem to have heard the name," I murmured.

"I hadn't been sleeping really well for a week--we'd been in the
trenches that time--and before that I had lain somewhat uneasily upon a
concrete floor."

"Yes, concrete is hard, isn't it?" I said.

"We came out at three in the morning, and arrived at our billets about
seven. I knew this commission was on the _tapis_--French word meaning
carpet--so I hung round not daring to turn in. At eleven o'clock I had
orders to push off home to get my kit. You'll guess I didn't want asking
twice. I made my way to the railhead at once in case of any hitch, and
had to wait some time for a train. It was a goods train when it came,
but it did quite well and deposited me outside the port of embarkation
about nine o'clock at night. I walked on into the port and found the
ship that was crossing next morning. I went below in search of a cabin.
There was a French sailor there to whom I explained my need."

"How?" I asked, for I do not share Ernest's opinion of his mastery of
the French language, but he ignored this.

"It was dark down there," he went on, "too dark for him to see that I
was in a private's uniform, so I put on a bit of side and he took me for
an officer."

"A French officer?"

"Very likely. Anyway he found me a beautiful cabin with a lovely couch
in it all covered with plush. You would have thought I should want
nothing but to be left to sleep; but no, I saw that the officer in the
next cabin had a candle, and there was no candle for me. Instantly my
worst instincts were aroused. I felt I was being put upon. I demanded a
candle. The sailor declared there wasn't one left."

"You're sure he understood what you were asking for?"

"Yes, I know that candle is boogy, thank you. I argued with him for ten
minutes and then turned in, grumbling. Queer, wasn't it?"

"Yes," I said.

I sat there for a while, thinking over Ernest's story, which had, it
seemed to me, something of the tract about it.

Later the midges began to attack us.

"Aren't these midges ab