"With another sigh escaping from his lips, which sent a cold shiver up and down my spinal column, he lighted a fag and started in. This is what he told me: "'It was back in September, 1914. You know I came out with the First Expeditionary Force, the time when all the fighting was being done in the open. The Germans were smashing everything before them in their drive to Paris. Our Brigade was one of the few opposed to Von Kluck. It was a case of hold them for a few hours and then retreat,--always retreat,--with the German tide lapping our heels. We didn't even have time to bury our dead. The grub was rotten, and we were just about fagged out, dead tired, with no prospect of relief or rest in front of us, and Hell behind. "'It was customary for small patrols of ten to twenty men, under a Sergeant, to reconnoitre on our flanks. One day I was sent out in command of one of these parties. Oh, yes, I was a Sergeant then, but I lost my stripes,--no, I wasn't busted,--just resigned of my own accord. I was in for a commission, too, but of course I let it go with the Sergeant's stripes. Guess I was lucky at that, because if I had received it, no doubt by this time I'd be pushing up the daisies somewhere in France. In those days, you know, officers didn't last long,--made fine targets for the Boches. "'The patrol I was in command of carried rations for three days. We had orders to scout around on our left flank, keeping in touch with the advancing Germans, but not to engage them,--just get information. If the information was valuable, I was to send it in by one of the men. There were fourteen of us, and we were mounted. I was in the Lancers then, and was considered a fair rider,--got transferred to this outfit after I resigned from Sergeant,--guess they smelled a rat. "'The first day nothing happened. We just scouted around. By nightfall we were pretty tired, so when we came to a village,--wasn't a village either; just five or six houses clustered around a church,--I decided to go into billets for the night. "'Riding up to the largest house, which had a stone wall running around its garden, I dismounted at the gate and knocked at the front door--the house was on a sort of knoll. Then the sweetest voice I ever heard called out in trembling tones, in perfect English, too, with just the suspicion of an accent: "'"Who is there, please?" "'I answered: "Just a few English Lancers who desire a place to rest for the night. The barn will do. We don't want anything to eat, as we have rations with us. So, if you will accommodate us, miss, I will be much obliged." I was in love with that girl before I saw her--the voice had done the trick. She answered: "Just a moment, please, until I ask father." And then the door shut and the light disappeared. We didn't have to wait long before the door reopened, and she called to me: "Father bids you welcome, and so do I, soldiers of England!"