XV. A "CONSEIL DE LA GUERRE" 143 XVI. PETER 154 XVII. THREE TRAVELLERS 166 XVIII. BARBARA 173 XIX. AN ARMY COUNCIL 178 XX. THE FUGITIVES 189 XXI. A "DUG-OUT" 195 XXII. CHRISTMAS EVE, 1914 202 IV THE FRONT AGAIN XXIII. THE COMING OF THE HUN 209 XXIV. THE HILL 226 XXV. THE DAY'S WORK 232 XXVI. FIAT JUSTITIA 244 XXVII. HIGHER EDUCATION 252 XXVIII. THE LITTLE TOWNS OF FLANDERS AND ARTOIS 259 XXIX. THE "FRONT" ONCE MORE 270 XXX. HOME AGAIN 288 I THE BASE I BOBS BAHADUR It had gone eight bells on the S.S. _G----_. The decks had been washed down with the hosepipe and the men paraded for the morning's inspection. The O.C. had scanned them with a roving eye, till catching sight of an orderly two files from the left he had begged him, almost as a personal favour, to get his hair cut. To an untutored mind the orderly's hair was about one-eighth of an inch in length, but the O.C. was inflexible. He was a colonel in that smartest of all medical services, the I.M.S., whose members combine the extensive knowledge of the general practitioner with the peculiar secrets of the Army surgeon, and he was fastidious. Then he said "Dismiss," and they went their appointed ways. The Indian cooks were boiling _dhal_ and rice in the galley; the bakers were squatting on their haunches on the lower deck, making _chupattis_--they were screened against the inclemency of the weather by a tarpaulin--and they patted the leathery cakes with persuasive slaps as a dairymaid pats butter. Low-caste sweepers glided like shadows to and fro. Suddenly some one crossed the gangway and the sentry stiffened and presented arms. The O.C. looked down from the upper deck and saw a lithe, sinewy little figure with white moustaches and "imperial"; the eyes were of a piercing steel-blue. The figure was clad in a general's field-service uniform, and on his shoulder-straps were the insignia of a field-marshal. The colonel stared for a moment, then ran hastily down the ladder and saluted. * * * * * Together they passed down the companion-ladder. At the foot of it they encountered a Bengali orderly, who made a profound obeisance. "Shiva Lal," said the O.C., "I ordered the portholes to be kept unfastened and the doors in the bulkheads left open. This morning I found them shut. Why was this?" "Sahib, at eight o'clock I found them open." "It was at eight o'clock," said the colonel sternly, "that I found them shut."