in a gusty wind. At intervals, when the clatter of the
onrushing train lessened, the heavy pattering of rain on the roof
became audible.

"Confound it!" growled the corporal. "Detestable weather! Hateful
country!"

Whilst attempting some muscular exercises to unstiffen his aching
limbs, he muttered:

"And only to think of that wretch Vinson enjoying the benefit of my
first-class permit!... Started off to-night under my name, and is now
rolling along in a comfortable sleeping-car towards the sunny South
with a nice bit of money in his purse!"

The corporal in the inhospitable third-class of the Verdun train made
mental pictures of Vinson's progress south. He talked to himself
aloud.

"Good journey to you, you jolly dog!... In six weeks' time, if you
have a thought to spare for me, you will send your news as we
arranged!"

The corporal began breathing warm breaths on his numbed fingers.

"By Jove! The company is not prodigal of foot-warmers, that's certain!
It's an ice-house in here!"

He continued to soliloquise:

"It's a deuce of a risky business I have let myself in for!... To take
Vinson's place, and set off for Verdun, where his regiment is doing
garrison duty, the regiment to which he has just been attached!... It
would run as smooth as oil if I had done my military service, but,
owing to circumstances, I have never been called up!... A pretty sort
of fool I may make of myself!"...

After a reflective silence, he went on:

"Bah! I shall pull through all right! Have I not crammed my head with
theory the last eight days, and pumped Vinson for all he was worth
about the rules and regulations, and the ways of camp life!... All the
same ... to make my debut in an Eastern garrison, in the 'Iron
Division,' straight off the reel takes some nerve!... What cheek!...
It's the limit!... But, my dear little Fandor, don't forget you are at
Verdun not to play the complete soldier but to gather exact
information about a band of traitors, and to unmask them at the first
opportunity--a work of national importance, little Fandor, and don't
you forget it!"

Thus our adventurous Vinson-Fandor lay shivering in the night train on
the point of drawing up at Verdun.

Having saved the wretched Vinson from suicide, Fandor had made him
promise to leave France and await developments, whilst Fandor, posing
as Vinson, studied at close quarters the spies who had drawn the
miserable corporal into their net. Fandor could personat