They had a day’s rest, and were then put on the cushy job of building a new track up to the southern fringe of Hill 91 across the old Front Lines and No Man’s Land. They were outside the range of vision of the German observation posts, and it was two days before the German airplanes discovered them—two days of comparative quiet. Then, of course, they got it hot and strong. In clearing away the wire they made a number of gruesome discoveries, and examined with great interest the primitive hand grenades and other weapons of 1914-15 which were lying rusting there in great quantities. Winterbourne took an immense interest in building this track, an interest which puzzled and amused Evans, especially since this was the first time he had ever seen Winterbourne show any enthusiasm for their labours. “I can’t see why you’re so keen on this bally old track, Winterbourne. It’s one of the dullest jobs we’ve ever had.” “But surely you can see, Sir. We’re making something, not destroying things. We’re taking down wire, not putting it up; filling in shell-holes, not desecrating the earth.” Evans frowned at the phrase “desecrating the earth.” He thought it pretentious, and with all his obtuseness he had an instinctive resentment against Winterbourne’s unspoken but unwavering and profound condemnation of War. Evans had a superstitious reverence for War. He believed in the Empire; the Empire was symbolized by the King-Emperor; and the King—poor man—is always having to dress up as an Admiral or a Field Marshal or a brass hat of some kind. Navydom and Armydom thereby acquired a mystic importance, and since armies and navies are obviously meant for War, it was plain that War was an integral part of Empire-Worship. More than once he clumsily tried to trap Winterbourne into expressing unorthodox opinions. But, of course, Winterbourne saw him coming miles away, and easily evaded his awkward bobby traps. “I suppose you’re a _republican_,” he said to Winterbourne, who was innocently humming the Marseillaise. “I don’t believe in Republics. Why, Presidents wear evening dress in the middle of the morning.” Winterbourne nearly burst into a cackle of laughter but managed to restrain himself. He denied that he was a republican, and admitted with mock gravity that Evans had put his finger on a serious flaw in Republican institutions. But his joy in constructing the track was short-lived. As they were finishing their second day’s work he saw a battery of Field Artillery cross the old No Man’s Land by the road they had built, and then bump its way over shell-holes to a new position. So even this little bit of construction was only for further destruction. * * * * *