er in a strange land." He stared thoughtfully at a
thrush which was dealing with a large and fat worm. Then he
continued--"You were talking about outsiders. Lord! my dear girl, don't
think I don't know what you mean. I had a peerless one in my
company--one of the first and purest water--judged by our standards. He
was addicted to cleaning his nails, amongst other things, with a prong of
his fork at meals. . . . But one morning down in the Hulluch sector--it
was stand to. Dawn was just spreading over the sky--grey and sombre; and
lying at the bottom of the trench just where a boyau joined the front
line, was this officer. His face was whiter than the chalk around him,
but every now and then he grinned feebly. What was left of his body had
been covered with his coat: because you see a bit of a flying pig had
taken away most of his stomach."

The girl bit her lip--but her eyes did not leave Vane's face.

"He died, still lying in the wet chalky sludge, still grinning, and
thanking the stretcher bearers who had carried him." He paused for a
moment--his mind back in the Land over the Water. "There are thousands
like him," he went on thoughtfully, "and over there, you see, nothing
much matters. A man, whether he's a duke or a dustman, is judged on his
merits in the regimental family. Everyone is equally happy, or equally
unhappy--because everyone's goal is the same."

"And over here," put in the girl, "everyone's goal is different. How
could it be otherwise? It's when you get a man trying to kick the ball
through the wrong goal--and succeeding--that the trouble comes."

"Quite right," agreed Vane. "Personally I'm trying to find out what my
own goal is."

"What was it before the war?"

"Soda water syphons and flour; hunting, cricket and making love."

"And you don't think that would still fill the bill?"

"The Lord knows!" laughed Vane. "In the fulness of time probably I shall
too."

"And how do you propose to find out?" persisted
the girl.

Once again Vane laughed. "By the simple process of doing nothing," he
answered. "I shall--as far as my arduous military duties allow me--carry
on. . . . I believe everyone is carrying on. . . . It's the phase,
isn't it? And in the process, as far as it progresses before I have to
return to France--I may get some idea as to whether I am really a
pronounced Pacifist or a Last Ditcher."

For a while she looked at him curiously without speaking. "You're
som