"You poor kid," I said; "what an awful experience! You must lock your door to-night, and to-morrow, with or without Hugh's knowledge, I shall go up to see Cremer." "You don't think; oh! it couldn't be true that Hugh, my Hugh, is going----" She wouldn't say the word, but just gazed at me fearfully through her tears. "Hush, my lady," I said quietly. "The brain is a funny thing; perhaps there is some pressure somewhere which Sir William will be able to remove." "Why, of course that's it. I'm tired, stupid--it's made me exaggerate things. It will mean another operation, that's all. Wasn't it splendid about his getting the V.C.; and the King, so gracious, so kind...." She talked bravely on, and I tried to help her. But suppose there wasn't any pressure; suppose there was nothing to remove; suppose.... And in my mind I saw the plot with the little wooden crosses; in my mind I heard the express for somewhere booming sullenly overhead. And I wondered ... shuddered. * * * * * Hugh met us at the door; dear old Hugh, looking as well as he ever did. "Splendid, Ginger, old man! So glad you managed the leave all right." "Not a hitch, Hugh. You're looking very fit." "I am. Fit as a flea. You ask Elsie what she thinks." His wife smiled. "You're just wonderful, old boy, except for your sleeplessness at night. I want him to see Sir William Cremer, Ginger, but he doesn't think it worth while." "I don't," said Hugh shortly. "Damn that old sawbones." In another man the remark would have passed unnoticed; but the chauffeur was there, and a maid, and his wife--and the expression was quite foreign to Hugh. But I am bound to say that except for that one trifling thing I noticed absolutely nothing peculiar about him all the evening. At dinner he was perfectly normal; quite charming--his own brilliant self. When he was in the mood, I have seldom heard his equal as a conversationalist, and that night he was at the top of his form. I almost managed to persuade myself that my fears were groundless.... "I want to have a buck with Ginger, dear," he said to his wife after dinner was over. "A talk over the smells and joys of Flanders." "But I should like to hear," she answered. "It's so hard to get you men to talk."