“And then at last the news of rescue! A French fishing-boat was coming! ‘Women and children first,’ the young Belgians cried. My Belgian succorer roused himself and fetched my stockings and boots. My right boot would not go on. My puttees he could not manage, and so he tied them round me. He was always cool and practical and matter-of-fact. ‘I have been in the Belgian Congo,’ he explained, ‘and in shipwrecks before. I know what to do, and I am not alarmed. You can trust entirely to me.’ And I did. There was a great bump as the fishing-boat came alongside, and a rush upstairs. Once more I was left alone, for my Belgian friend had gone up to see about getting me helped on board. He came back to say that the crush was so great that he would wait till it was over and then take me. It seemed a long time, but he came back at last, only to find he could not lift me. Then he went away calling for an ‘homme de bonne volonté’ to help. A young Chinese responded, and together they staggered up the heaving stairway with me. When they reached the ship’s rail it was to hear that the boat had gone! A British torpedo boat was coming, we were told, and so the fisherman had gone off with as many as he could safely carry to Boulogne. With her went my hope of reaching my own hospital in France. I had been sure the destroyer would take her load to England. [Illustration: _Courtesy of Leslies._ Sinking of the _Falaba_ After torpedoing the ship, the U-boat came to the surface and gave the command “Abandon ship.” Shortly afterward the _Falaba_ broke into flames and was destroyed.] “Perhaps half an hour passed, and then the destroyer came. This time one of the French sailors helped him to carry me, and I was placed on my back, across the ship’s rail, and when the roll brought her near enough to the destroyer, British sailors grasped my arms and pulled me over. For one sickening second my legs dangled between the two ships, but the sailors hauled me in just before the impact came. They carried me to the chart-house and laid me on the couch, and before long the Belgian joined me, and, utterly exhausted, lay down on the floor. From that moment I felt entirely safe. We English are brought up to feel complete confidence in the British Navy, much as they teach us to trust in Providence. And the Navy deserves our confidence. “It took a long time to transfer all the remaining passengers of the _Sussex_ to H. M. S. ——, for the sea was becoming restless, and the two ships hammered and thumped at each other’s sides to such purpose that the rescuing destroyer had to go into dock for repairs when her labors were over and she had landed us all safely.” THE VALLEYS OF THE BLUE SHROUDS (_Where the Valiant Poilus Were Buried in Their Blue Uniforms_) _By_ John Finley O shards of walls that once held precious life, Now scattered, like the bones the Prophet saw Lying in visioned valleys of the slain Ere One cried: “Son of Man, can these bones live?”