We arrived at a two-storey brick building, and after a lengthy pull at the bell-rope the door was slowly opened a little way. Jack enquired for Sister Paulo, and upon giving his name, the door was immediately thrown wide and we were ushered into a small waiting-room. We had scarcely seated ourselves when a tall nun, with saint-like face and frank smiling eyes entered the room. She recognised Jack at once and, holding out both hands in greeting to him, exclaimed in excellent English: "My dear Capitaine! How glad I am to see you once more—you are as welcome as your name." "These are some very dear friends of mine, Sister Paulo," Jack cried, after he had introduced us individually, "and we have come to you in distress—we poor sons of men have no place to lay our heads." "Ah!" said Sister Paulo, with a gracious smile, "perhaps we shall now have an opportunity of doing you a little kindness for your many, many goodnesses to us." She turned to us and continued: "You see, Capitaine Wellcombe risked his life to save ours. He came to our Convent in Ypres during the night of that frightful battle, when the shells were falling in thousands about us, and the city was in ruins. One big shell tore through the wall and fell into the building—I shall never forget the horror of that night! The streets were lit up by fires, and the noise was awful beyond words. We were distracted—we seemed to have been forgotten by every one, when suddenly Captain Wellcombe came like an angel from above and climbed in through the rent in the wall. One by one he carried us out in his arms and put us in an ambulance. He took us through those dreadful streets and brought us here to safety. He is a brave man, and every night we pray for his protection." For once in his life Jack looked embarrassed, and blushed like a school-girl. "Sister Paulo exaggerates, I’m afraid," he said, in some confusion. "It seemed more dangerous than it really was." "You may make light of it, if you wish, my dear Capitaine," Sister Paulo replied, holding up a reproving finger, "but you can never make it to us less than the act of a brave and noble man!" She left us for a space, but shortly returned to tell us that our rooms were ready and that we were thrice welcome to what accommodation their poor house afforded. We were ushered upstairs and along a narrow hall in which we met several Belgian officers, who bowed low as we passed. Jack was given a small room to himself.