That Charm! One night at Wembley Park the ribbon that held it had come unsewn. She hadn't had time to stitch it. It hung over her mirror. One day, perhaps, she would attend to it; but she was always busy now. It didn't seem to matter.... Captain Ross rose to go. Olwen could picture the expression with which he'd presently look into cell 0369 to "see" if the workers had all returned. She was generally just five minutes behind him. Today he paused, and said abruptly, "Speaking of theatres--there's a concert or show of some sort on at the Phoenix Hut, that American place, next Monday. Awdas rang me up about it. He'd be very pleased if you'd go." Mischief danced in Olwen's averted glance. "How jolly! But how funny of Mr. Awdas not to ask me himself! What time is this concert, Captain Ross?" In a wooden voice Captain Ross said, "It starts at eight. If you'd dinner, say, at seven o'clock here, I could take you along afterwards." "_You_ could? But you never take girls out from The Honeycomb." "That's so," agreed Captain Ross, with firmness. "But this is Awdas's show. You'll be with him. So shall I. Good-bye." He put on his red-banded hat, thrust his stick and gloves for a moment into the cross of his belt as he saluted woodenly, and turned. Olwen burst into a merry laugh. "Captain Ross!" He turned again. "It's all right; I was going to that concert anyhow," she told him. "I'm going with the girl who sings; you know Miss van Huysen!" Miss Golden van Huysen was now one of Olwen's best friends. CHAPTER II THE LAST ALLIES "They have looked each other between the eyes, and there they have found no fault, They have taken the Oath of the Brother-in-Blood on leavened bread and salt." Kipling. The War-missioner on the platform paused for a moment to look at his watch. Then he resumed, in the rich deep voice that spoke English not as the English speak it, the voice that had done so much to bring the help of his great country into the War. "But you'd rather be hearing Miss van Huysen sing; and if you wouldn't, I would. So I'll just say this one thing to you men and women at the Phoenix Hut tonight. I want you to look at this flag." He pointed to the right-hand one of the two flags that backed him where he stood; the Stars and Stripes. "And now--I want to think of another flag. Our stars only stand for stars that are older still." The orator's fine grey head was lifted as if he could see those stars above the many-pointed roof of the hut; stars of the night sky. "Those stars don't change. They're rising all the while, right round the world. They were there, those stars, before you or I were heard of. They will be there when we are gone. I see them as the stars of Love and Home. And I'll tell you, friends, what I see in those stripes, too. I see the whole world turning round to Daybreak, and those stripes are the rays of the Dawn."