r word. I will
buttonhole every Minister from McKenna and Lloyd George to Asquith and
Bonar Law,--and grovel at their feet if by doing so I can hold them on
to this, the biggest scoop that is, or ever has been, open to an
Empire.

Rather a sickly lunch. Not so much the news as the Benger's on which we
all feasted for our stomach's sake. Birdie came over at 4 p.m. with
Ruthven. Both his A.D.C.s are sick. I am going to ask him to take on
young Alec McGrigor. Peter and Freddie will come home with Braithwaite
and myself. What a true saying,--a friend in need is a friend indeed.
Were I handing over to Birdie for good I should feel unalloyed happiness
in his well-deserved success.

At tea Ellison, Braithwaite, Bertier, Colonel Sykes and Guest appeared.
They looked more depressed than I felt. I had to work like a beaver
before I could brighten them up. "I'm not dead yet," I felt inclined to
tell them, "no, not by long chalks." What I did say to one or two of
them was this:--"My credit with Government is exhausted; clearly I can't
screw men or munitions out of them. The new Commander will start fresh
with a good balance of faith, hope and charity lodged in the Bank of
England. He comes with a splendid reputation, and if he is big enough to
draw boldly on this deposit, the Army will march; the Fleet will steam
ahead; what has been done will bear fruit, and all our past struggles
and sacrifices will live."

Dined with Freddie on the _Triad_. De Robeck and Keyes were all that
friends can be at such a moment.

_17th October, 1915. H.M.S. "Chatham"_ (_At sea_). A pretty beastly day
within and without. For the within part, all sorts of good-byes to put
pain into our hearts; for the without, a cold drizzle chilling us all to
the bone.

At 10.30 Brulard and his Staff came over; also Generals Byng and Davies
with their Staffs. After bidding them farewell; a function whereat I was
grateful to the French for their lightness of touch, I rode over with
Braithwaite and the A.D.C.s to the new Headquarters at Kephalos to say
good-bye to my own Staff. Although I had meant to live there until we
drove the Turks far enough back to let us live on the Peninsula, I had
found time to see my little stone hut built by Greek peasants on the
side of the hill:--deliciously snug. To-day, this very day, I was to
have struck my tent and taken up these cosy winter quarters; now I move,
right enough, but on the wrong road.

The adieu was a melancholy a