Up the long hill leading southwards out of the town, sped the motor, stopping once to show its pass to the sentries--khaki and grey, on either side of the road, and so on into the open country, where an autumn mist lay over the uplands, beneath a faintly starlit sky. Soon it was quite dark. Bridget listened vaguely to the half-whispered talk of the nurses opposite, who were young probationers going back to work after a holiday, full of spirits and merry gossip about 'Matron' and 'Sister,' and their favourite surgeons. Bridget was quite silent. Everything was strange and dreamlike. Yet she was sharply conscious that she was nearing--perhaps--some great experience, some act--some decision--which she would have to make for herself, with no one to advise her. Well, she had never been a great hand at asking advice. People must decide things for themselves. She wondered whether they would let her see 'the man' that same night. Hardly--unless he were worse--in danger. Otherwise, they would be sure to think it better for her to see him first in daylight. She too would be glad to have a night's rest before the interview. She had a curiously bruised and battered feeling, as of someone who had been going through an evil experience. Pale stretches of what seemed like water to the right, and across it a lighthouse. And now to the left, a sudden spectacle of lines of light in a great semicircle radiating up the side of a hill. The nurses exclaimed-- 'There's the Camp! Isn't it pretty at night?' The officer sitting in front beside the driver turned to ask-- 'Where shall I put you down?' 'Number----' said both the maidens in concert. The elderly major in khaki--who in peace-time was the leading doctor of a Shropshire country town--could not help smiling at the two lassies, and their bright looks. 'You don't seem particularly sorry to come back!' he said. 'Oh, we're tired of holidays,' said the taller of the two, with a laugh. 'People at home think they're _so_ busy, and---' 'You think they're doing nothing?' 'Well, it don't seem much, when you've been out here!' said the girl more gravely--'and when you know what there is to do!' 'Aye, aye,' said the man in front. 'We could do with hundreds more of your sort. Hope you preached to your friends.' 'We did!' said both, each with the same young steady voice. 'Here we are--Stop, please.' For the motor had turned aside to climb the hill into the semicircle. On all sides now were rows of low buildings--hospital huts--hospital marquees--stores--canteens. Close to the motor, as it came to a stand-still, the door of a great marquee stood open, and Bridget could see within, a lighted hospital ward, with rows of beds, men in scarlet bed-jackets, sitting or lying on them--flowers--nurses moving about. The scene was like some bright and delicate illumination on the dark.