They began the fight on a Saturday. The French on both their flanks gave way. One army on each flank trying to hem them in and an army in front pounding the life out of them. They fought all Saturday. They began the retreat on Saturday night, fought again Sunday, marched Sunday night, they fought Monday and marched Monday night, fought Tuesday, and marched Tuesday night. The letter said they staggered down the roads like drunken men. Wednesday, dead beat, they fought again--and against ever fresh masses of men, remember. Wednesday night one corps came to Landrecies. At half-past nine they were all asleep in billets. At ten o'clock a perfectly fresh army of the enemy, field guns backing them up behind, machine guns in front, bore down the streets into the village. But those wonderful Coldstreams and Grenadiers and Highlanders just filled the streets and every man for himself poured in rifle fire, and every machine gun fired into the enemy masses, smashed the attack and then they went at them with the bayonet and flung them back. Again and again throughout the night this thing was repeated until the Germans drew off, leaving five hundred dead before the village and in its streets. It was in the last bayonet charge, when leading his men, that Jack was killed.""My God!" cried Larry. "What a great death!""And so Kathleen goes about with her head high and Sybil, too,--Mrs. Waring-Gaunt, you know," continued Nora, "she is just like the others. She never thinks of herself and her two little kids who are going to be left behind but she is busy getting her husband ready and helping to outfit his men, as all the women are, with socks and mits and all the rest of it. Before Tom made up his mind to raise the battalion they were both wretched, but now they are both cheery as crickets with a kind of exalted cheeriness that makes one feel like hugging the dear things. And, Larry, there won't be a man left in this whole country if the war keeps on except old McTavish, who is furious because they won't take him and who declares he is going on his own. Poor Mr. Rhye is feeling so badly. He was rejected--heart trouble, though I think he is more likely to injure himself here preaching as he does than at the war.""And yourself, Nora? Carrying the whole load, I suppose,--ranch, and now this mine. You are getting thin, I see.""No fear," said Nora. "Joe is really doing awfully well on the ranch. He practically takes charge. By the way, Sam has enlisted.
He says he is going to stick to you. He is going to be your batman. And as for the mine, since father's accident Mr. Wakeham has been very kind. If he were not an American he would have enlisted before this.""Oh! he would, eh?"
"He would, or he would not be coming about Lakeside Farm.""Then he does come about?"
"Oh, yes," said Nora with an exaggerated air of indifference. "He would be rather a nuisance if he were not so awfully useful and so jolly. After all, I do not see what we should have done without him.""Ah, a good man is Dean."
"I had a letter from Jane this week," continued Nora, changing the subject abruptly.
"I have not heard for two weeks," said Larry.
"Then you have not heard about Scuddy. Poor Scuddy! But why say 'poor' Scuddy? He was doing his duty. It was a patrol party. He was scouting and ran into an enemy patrol and was instantly killed.
The poor girl, Helen Brookes, I think it is.""Helen Brookes!" exclaimed Larry.
"Yes, Jane says you knew her. She was engaged to Scuddy. And Scallons is gone too.""Scallons!"
"And Smart, Frank Smart."
"Frank Smart! Oh! his poor mother! My God, this war is awful and grows more awful every day.""Jane says Mrs. Smart is at every meeting of the Women's Association, quiet and steady, just like our Kathleen. Oh, Larry, how can they do it? If my husband--if I had one--were killed I could not, I just could not, bear it.""I fancy, little girl, you would measure up like the others. This is a damnable business, but we never knew our women till now. But the sooner that cursed race is wiped off the face of the earth the better.""Why, Larry, is that you? I cannot believe my ears.""Yes, it is me. I have come to see that there is no possibility of peace or sanity for the world till that race of mad militarists is destroyed. I am still a pacifist, but, thank God, no longer a fool. Is there no other news from Jane?""Did you hear about Ramsay Dunn? Oh, he did splendidly. He was wounded; got a cross or something.""Did you know that Mr. Murray had organised a battalion and is Lieutenant-Colonel and that Doctor Brown is organising a Field Ambulance unit and going out in command?""Oh, that is settled, is it? Jane told me it was possible.""Yes, and perhaps Jane and Ethel Murray will go with the Ambulance Unit. Oh, Larry, is there any way I might go? I could do so much--drive a car, an ambulance, wash, scrub, carry despatches, anything.""By Jove, you would be a good one!" exclaimed her brother. "Iwould like to have you in my company."
"Couldn't it be worked in any possible way?" cried Nora.
But Larry made no reply. He knew well that no reply was needed.
What was her duty this splendid girl would do, whether in Flanders or in Alberta.
At the door of their home the mother met them. As her eyes fell upon her son in his khaki uniform she gave a little cry and ran to him with arms uplifted.
"Come right in here," she whispered, and took him to the inner room. There she drew him to the bedside and down upon his knees.
