ck the Germans who
were attempting to cross the river. "About half a mile from the banks,"
writes Duffy, "we came out from a wood to find a French infantry
battalion going across in the same direction. We didn't want to be
behind, so we put our best foot forward, and one of the most exciting
races you ever saw followed. We got in first by a head, as you might
say, and we were just in time to tackle a mob of Germans heading for the
crossing in disorder. We went at them with the bayonet, but they didn't
seem to have the least heart for fighting. Some of them flung themselves
in the stream and tried to swim to safety, but they were heavily
accoutered and worn out so they didn't go very far. Of about three
hundred men who tried this not more than half a dozen succeeded in
reaching the other bank."

In spite of all the hatreds the war has engendered--and one of the Royal
Lancasters declares that the sign manual of friendship between the
French and the English soldier is "a cross on the throat indicating
their wish to the Kaiser"--there is still room for passages of fine
sympathy and chivalry. One young French lieutenant distinguished himself
by carrying a wounded Uhlan to a place of safety under a heavy German
fire, English soldiers have shown equal generosity and kindness to
injured captives, and the tributes to heroic and patient nurses shine
forth in letters of gold upon the dark pages of this tragic history.
Here is a touching letter from one of the King's Own Royal Lancasters.
"In one hospital, which was a church," he writes, "there was a young
French girl helping to bandage us up. How she stood it I don't know.
There were some awful sights, but she never quailed--just a sad sweet
smile for every one. If ever any one deserved a front seat in Heaven
this young angel did. God bless her! She has the prayers and all the
love the remnants of the Fourth Division can give her."

And another pretty little tribute is paid to the kindness of a French
lady to four English soldiers billeted at her house. "She was wondrous
kind," writes one of the grateful soldiers, "and when we left for the
front Madame and her mother sobbed and wept as if we had been their own
sons."

XI

ATKINS AND THE ENEMY

In one of his fine messages from the front, Sir John French, whom the
_New York World_ has described as the "best of war correspondents,"
referred to the British soldier as "a difficult person to impress or
depress." He meant,