The hour of the attack was not known, he explained. Since the whole Helles line was moving, the final order must come from G.H.Q. But everybody was to be armed and ready in the trenches by dawn.... And ... well, good evening, Ray. It was about dusk. I returned to the dug-out, and by candle-light wrote out my company orders. Then Doe and I decided that we ought to put together a few letters. And Doe tossed his pencil gaily into the air and caught it. The action was to cover with a veneer of merriness a question which it embarrassed him to ask. "Oughtn't we to make a jolly old will?" "Sure thing," agreed I, in imitation of him. "It'll be rather fun." Sec.4 Soon after Battalion Orders were out, Monty came and sat down in our dug-out. We had known he would come, and our reception of him was planned. Doe, whose affected gaiety had begun to give place to a certain wistfulness as the darkness fell, spoke first: "D'you remember telling us one night on the _Rangoon_ about some fellows who--who--gave you their wills the day before an attack?" Monty turned his head, and started to frown through the dug-out door at the still AEgean Sea. "Yes," he said. "Well, Rupert and I thought that we'd--that p'raps you'd look after these envelopes, in case--" "Oh, damn!" said Monty. I had never heard him swear before, but I knew that in the word his big heart spoke. Doe still held our envelopes towards his averted face, and at last he took them silently. "Thanks, awfully," said Doe. "Thanks," said I. "Oh, for Heaven's sake, shut up!" Monty grumbled, and started whistling unconsciously. Immediately in my mind the words "Dismiss me not thy service, Lord" framed themselves to the tune, and conjured up a vision of the smoking room of the _Rangoon_ and its decks by starlight. Abruptly Monty broke off, and said, still frowning at the sea: "Since those days you've been fairly loyal sons of the Church. Aren't you going to use her before to-morrow? To-night's a more literal Vigil than that voyage. Can't I--aren't you going to use me?" It was the old Monty of the _Rangoon_ speaking. "We'd thought about it," answered Doe, reddening. "I so want," murmured Monty, "to be of use to all the fellows who are going over the top to-morrow. But they don't understand. They don't think of me as a priest with something to do for them that nobody else can do. They think I've done my job when I've had a hymn-singing service, and preached to them.... And all the time I want to absolve them. I want to send them into the fight--white." No word came from us to break a long pause. We had become again those listening people of _Rangoon_ nights.