“Pretty sure to,--sooner or later,--every man that’s available. How long have you had?” “Four years.” “You should know your business fairly well. I think you’ll have to reckon on a call. You’ll go if needed?” “Of course.” Which brought the possibilities very close home and made Ray Luard a very thoughtful man that night. Next day they bade their friends good-bye, such of them as were up at so early an hour. And the Colonel and Katharine and Madeleine walked with them through the freshness of the morning by the winding forest-paths up Schatzalp, and were loth to part with them even on the top. The Colonel, indeed,--whose youth lay away back amid the mists of antiquity, and whose years had discovered to him the existence of a heart that pumped on up-gradients, and a certain stiffness in the legs which filled him with wrath,--called them to many a halt to view the scenery. His hearty good-will was so obvious, however, that they complied with his necessities and accommodated their pace to his without regret; and the girls buzzed about Lois with outspoken envy of her happy lot, and vehemently regretted that they could not go and do likewise in every particular. At the restaurant on top they drank a parting cup of coffee together, and then Ray and Lois set their faces towards the long ascent of the Strela, and the others stood and waved to them till they were out of sight. “Do you know what the old boy was saying, Lois?” Ray broke out as soon as they were quite alone. “No. What?” “He’s quite certain that England will have to go into the scrap, and that she’ll need every man she can put into the fighting-line. And I’m one of them, you see.” “Oh!--Ray!” and she stopped in her tracks, and stood gazing at him with sudden woe in her face. “It brings it close home to one, doesn’t it, dear?” he said quietly, pressing her arm tight to his heart. “I’ve been thinking about it all night. It will be hard on us, but if the call comes I must go.” “Yes ...” she said, slowly and reluctantly; sense of duty prevailing, with obvious difficulty, over her heart’s desire. “You must go.... But, oh,--it will be hard to let you go ... just when we’ve come to know one another, and life is at its brightest.... Oh, my dear! Suppose....” “We won’t suppose anything of the kind,” he said cheerfully. “Life is not long enough at its longest to waste one minute of it on forebodings. But I named this, dear, because it seems to me that it settles for us the question I raised the other day. Unless you say no, we’ll get married as soon as we get to Montreux.” “Yes!” she said simply, and the matter was settled.