"Now," Mr. Belknap continued, taking advantage of his silence, "my counter-proposition is that you should go to Brazil for three months with your Uncle Tom Jarvice, who is being sent down there on a big engineering job. It's a wonderful opportunity to see the country--see it like a prince too, for he'll have a special train at his disposal. Then, when you come back," he continued, his voice weakening a little under the strain of Troy's visible inattention, "we'll see...." "See what?" "Well--I don't know ... a camp ... till it's time for Harvard...." "I want to go to France at once, father," said Troy, with the voice of a man. "To do _what_?" wailed his mother. "Oh, any old thing--drive an ambulance," Troy struck out at random. "But, dearest," she protested, "you could never even learn to drive a Ford runabout!" "That's only because it never interested me." "But one of those huge ambulances--you'll be killed!" "Father!" exclaimed Troy, in a tone that seemed to say: "Aren't we out of the nursery, at least?" "Don't talk to him like that, Josephine," said Mr. Belknap, visibly wishing that he knew how to talk to his son himself, but perceiving that his wife was on the wrong tack. "Don't you see, father, that there's no use talking at all? I'm going to get to France anyhow." "In defiance of our wishes?" "Oh, you'll forget all that later," said Troy. Mrs. Belknap began to cry, and her husband turned on her. "My dear, you're really--really--_I understand Troy!_" he blurted out, his veins swelling too. "But if the Red Cross is to send you on that mission to Italy, why shouldn't Troy wait and go as your secretary?" Mrs. Belknap said, tacking skilfully. Mr. Belknap, who had not yet made up his mind to accept the mission, made it up on the instant. "Yes, Troy--why not? I shall be going myself--in a month or so." "I want to go to France," said his son. And he added, laughing with sudden courage: "You see, you've never refused me a birthday present yet." VII France again--France at last! As the cliffs grew green across the bay he could have knelt to greet them--as he hurried down the gang-plank with the eager jostling crowd he could have kissed the sacred soil they were treading. The very difficulties and delays of the arrival thrilled and stimulated him, gave him a keener sense of his being already a humble participant in the conflict. Passports, identification papers, sharp interrogatories, examinations, the enforced surrendering of keys and papers: how different it all was from the old tame easy landings, with the noiseless motor waiting at the dock, and France lying safe and open before them whichever way they chose to turn!