'I shall have to take you a bit further on,' said the major to Bridget, as the two young nurses waved farewell. 'We've got a room in the hotel for you. And Dr. Howson will come for you in the morning. He thought that would be more satisfactory both for you and the patient than that you should go to the hospital to-night.' Bridget acquiesced, with a strong sense of relief. And presently the camp and its lights were all left behind again, and the motor was rushing on, first through a dark town, and then through woods--pine woods--as far as the faint remaining light enabled her to see, till dim shapes of houses, and scattered lamps began again to appear, and the motor drew up. 'Well, you'll find a bed here, and some food,' said the major as he handed her out. 'Can't promise much. It's a funny little place, but they don't look after you badly.' They entered one of the small seaside hotels of the cheaper sort which abound in French watering-places, where the walls of the tiny rooms seem to be made of brown paper, and everyone is living in their neighbour's pocket. But a pleasant young woman came forward to take Bridget's bag. 'Mademoiselle Cook--Cookson?' she said interrogatively. 'I have a letter for Mademoiselle. Du médecin,' she added, addressing the major. 'Ah?' That gentleman put down Bridget's bag in the little hall, and stood attentive. Bridget opened the letter--a very few words--and read it with an exclamation. 'DEAR MISS COOKSON,--I am awfully sorry not to meet you to-night, and at the hospital to-morrow. But I am sent for to Bailleul. My only brother has been terribly wounded--they think fatally--in a bombing attack last night. I am going up at once--there is no help for it. One of my colleagues, Dr. Vincent, will take you to the hospital and will tell me your opinion. In haste.--Yours sincerely, 'ERNEST HOWSON.' 'H'm, a great pity!' said the major, as she handed the note to him. 'Howson has taken a tremendous interest in the case. But Vincent is next best. Not the same thing perhaps--but still--Of course the whole medical staff here has been interested in it. It has some extraordinary features. You I think have had a brother-in-law "missing" for some time?' He had piloted her into the bare _salle à manger_, where two young officers, with a party of newly-arrived V.A.D.'s were having dinner, and where through an open window came in the dull sound of waves breaking on a sandy shore. 'My brother-in-law has been missing since the battle of Loos,' said Bridget--'more than a year. We none of us believe that he can be alive. But of course when Dr. Howson wrote to me, I came at once.' 'Has he a wife?' 'Yes, but she is very delicate. That is why Dr. Howson wrote to me. If there were any chance--of course we must send for her. But I shall know--I shall know at once.'