She wound up with “Home, Sweet Home!” and before some of her listeners had finished using their handkerchiefs in various furtive and surreptitious ways, she was pealing out “God save the King!” like a trumpet-call, and “By Gad, sir! It went!”--as the Colonel said afterwards. “My dear!” said the Canon, as he thanked her very warmly for the pleasure she had given them. “You have a God-given gift. You can touch the hearts of men and lift them to higher things. That is a wonderful power for good.” “I love singing,” said Lois simply. “Or you could not sing like that,” said the Canon. “Your joyous young heart is in your voice.” As the following day was Sunday, and their next march would take them once more into the wilds--over the Strela and by Schanfiggthal to Chur and then up Rheinthal to Andermatt,--they decided to take a rest-day where they were, in the hope that further news from the outside world might arrive before Monday morning. Nothing came, however, except the Berne newspapers, which hinted at mobilisation in Russia, and told of the murder of M. Jaurès in Paris. Even these scraps of news, however, afforded the Colonel ground for ample comment, and that of the gloomiest character, on the general outlook. “Jaurès,” he said, “was a great leader and he worked hard for a better understanding between France and Germany. His removal, at this crisis and in this fashion, seems to point to a fanatical revulsion of feeling against his ideas. That means that the tinder is ready for the match. If Russia is mobilising, Germany will follow suit, if she has not done so already. The fat may be in the fire at any moment. For all we know the fire may have broken out now, even while we sit here discussing it.” Which made them all unusually thoughtful. And as a matter of fact, with good reason. For Germany had declared war on Russia at 7.30 the previous night. “Which way were you thinking of going?” the Colonel asked Ray, over their cigars in the lounge that night. “First to Chur. Then up the valley to Andermatt, over the Furka, and down the Rhone Valley to Montreux.” “That’s your best way. The East and North of France will certainly be closed. You may eventually get through by the Midi. But you’ll probably have to wait even for that. It’ll be a terrible upsetting all round. And I wish to God we could keep out of it, because we’re not ready. But we can’t. I’m as certain of that as that I’m sitting here.” “It’ll be an awful business if it comes to a general scrap,” said Ray. “Yes. I’ve seen fighting in several parts of the world and it’s grim business at best, but this will beat anything we’ve ever imagined, if I know anything about it. Germany is just a huge fighting-machine, and she’ll fight like the devil. If Russia is in, France is in, and that almost certainly means we’re in too. How do you stand yourself, Mr. Luard?” “I’m in the London Scottish,--lieutenant. Do you think they’ll want us?”