Saunders turned his sweeping gaze to the right, and it lighted upon the private curling-rink belonging to Major Flannel's villa. He smiled, for the contest for the Flannel Cup had already begun, and was going on heedless of the stern symphony that was making the valleys echo with bursts of shattering sound. A curling competition demands a whole-hearted absorption from its votaries, and takes little heed of battle, murder, and sudden death, provided the ice is keen and in good order. "What are you smiling at?" demanded Mrs. Saunders. "British sense of proportion," he replied, and as he spoke a man on skis approached from the street below and called on him by name. "Orders from the General, Excellency!" Saunders took the note. It was a hurried scrawl in Meyer's handwriting: "_Proceed instantly on receipt of this to the Marienkastel. Hang on till they get within a hundred yards, then bolt for the abatis in the new cemetery!_" Saunders read it aloud, and then turned to his wife. "Farewell, dearest," he said simply. "When I have gone make your way to the Pariserhof. You will be perfectly safe there." Mrs. Saunders hung speechless a moment in her husband's embrace. When she spoke it was apologetically, as one demanding a difficult favour. "Robert," she pleaded, "should I be a great nuisance in the Marienkastel? I could tend the wounded--I might even----" "To-day is a day of obedience and discipline," he interrupted with firm kindness. "I am ordered to the Marienkastel, you to the Pariserhof. Yours is the post of anxiety, mine of excitement. Man is selfish and woman patient--and so the latter always has to bear the crueller burden." She bit her lip and nodded, and released herself from his embrace. Strong arms handed him his rifle, and cool, steady hands fastened the cartridge-belt around his waist. "You know Karl entreated you not to take part in this stupid war," she said with the suspicion of a break in her voice. "Was it kind to me to refuse him?" "It was infernally cruel," he replied. "Necessity generally is." Again she nodded thoughtfully. He was right; he was bound to help Karl, but it needed a brave woman to admit the necessity. But Mrs. Saunders was no ordinary woman, and for a minute her hazel eyes fought hard and not unsuccessfully against the hot, pent stream that battled for an exit. For a moment she fought the unequal fight; then nature gained the day. The tears won through, and the strong, supple form became a clinging thing of naked grief. Saunders pressed the bowed head tenderly against his bosom, and intertwined his fingers lovingly in her hair. "Good-bye, best beloved," he said. "And whatever comes, defeat or victory, the thrill of triumph or the darkness that is death, there will only be one vision before me--the cool, grey eyes that looked into my soul and found something there not wholly unworthy of a woman's love."