“So many have not even the chance of doing that. The lists are again very heavy, I’m sorry to say.” “And we are still falling back?” “Still retiring, but you’ll see we’ll stop before long,”--and then there came a ring at the bell, and presently the door opened and there stood in the doorway a burly figure whom neither of them recognised, and behind it the concerned face of the maid whose attempt at announcement had been forestalled. The newcomer was tall and broad, and something about his face seemed familiar to both Mrs Dare and the Colonel, and yet they were sure they had never set eyes on it before. For it was most decidedly a face calculated to impress itself on the memory. To Mrs Dare it suggested the late Emperor of the French, but with more alert and wide-awake eyes. It made the Colonel think of Victor Emmanuel the First, of Italy. “Well, well?” said the stranger, and then they knew him. “Good heavens, Rhenius! What are you playing at? You gave me quite a shock. I took you for the ghost of Victor Emmanuel,” jerked the Colonel half-angrily. “And I thought you were Napoleon III come to life again,” smiled Mrs Dare, as she poured him out a cup of tea. “Ah-ha! So you accorded me promotion on both sides----” “If you’d call it promotion?” growled the Colonel. “Quite so. Very questionable. I have never greatly admired either of the gentlemen in question.” “And why on earth have you been playing such pranks with your face? Think it an improvement?” “I was in Italy when the troubles broke out,--at Piora, near Airolo. Before I could get through, France was practically closed to any but Frenchmen. I wished to get home so I became a Frenchman for the time being--a Frenchman of the Second Empire, and me voici! But I came to bring you news.” “Of Con?” asked Mrs Dare eagerly. “Of Con? No. What is wrong with my good friend Con?” “He’s reported missing,” said the Colonel. “Missing!”--with a pinch of the lips that jerked up the long moustache. “I am sorry. But that is better than either killed or wounded. He is at all events safe from harm.” “You really think so, Doctor?” asked Mrs Dare anxiously. “Why, of course, my dear madame. As a prisoner of war he will be well-treated and out of harm’s way.” “If one could only be sure of that,” she sighed. “What’s your news then?” asked the Colonel brusquely, not having yet quite recovered from his umbrage at the Doctor’s facial metamorphosis. “Ah, yes--my news.... I came over Furka by way of Hospenthal, and there, at the Golden Lion, I met two of my young friends whom you know very well----” “Lois and Ray?” and Mrs Dare dropped her knitting and stared up at him in anxious excitement. “Yes--Lois and Ray----” “I told you they’d strike down south and get out that way,” said the Colonel triumphantly. “That’s good. I forgive you your barbarisms, Doctor,--neat that, eh? And I’ll take another cup of tea on the strength of it, Mrs Mother, if you please!”