Later on came tea taken in the garden of a little cottage which modestly displayed the card ‘Teas’ in a window, where they were served by the good lady’s daughter with home-made bread and cake and jam, and then lay back and smoked and thought of things and men and the country and England. Then they paid the bill, stroked the cat, gave the child some pennies, and wandered on at peace with the world, themselves, and everything. They started back towards Langton, but the sound of bells drew them from the main road to where a little ivy-covered church nestled lonely and almost forgotten by the wayside. They took off their caps and went in. After the glare outside they blinked and groped in the dusk of the church until the light grew better and they saw where they had strayed. ‘I say,’ said Raymond, ‘this is a Catholic Church; hadn’t we better----’ ‘That’s all right,’ said Austin. ‘We’ll sit here a minute.’ They found a pew and looked round them. Up by the altar a priest was standing with his back towards them. Two boys in surplices were standing near. Then an organ burst out somewhere, and the few worshippers took up the refrain and sang the _Tantum Ergo_. The two men knelt down. Later a bell rang and the old priest bent down over the altar. He raised something in his hands. Infinite quiet, the sound of heart beats, and the lists of the parish killed in action stood out sharply on either side of the sanctuary. The priest was moving away with the boys before him. The organ crashed out again, and Raymond caught the words:-- ‘_Quoniam confirmata est super nos misericordia ejus: et veritas Domini manet in aeternum._’ ‘The truth of the Lord remaineth for ever.’ They stepped out into the sunlight and blinked in the glare of the high road. * * * * * Later, the return to the base and the motor ride to the harbour, and the steamboat off to the _Parentis_. A return to the world of men and ships, where the war was the essence of life and the main topic of conversation. The ward room was discussing the newly-arrived boat which was to take the place of Blake’s. Singleton was a man of merry moods, and kept them going with stories of his struggles with the contractors and the trials he had been through while his boat had been building. ‘A hell of a lot of work,’ he concluded, ‘and didn’t get any “command money” for seven weeks either.’ ‘_And_ had a fine fat time of it ashore, I bet,’ remarked the Staff Paymaster lightly. ‘Not so bad, not so bad, but nothing to write home about. Not married, you know. Found things pretty dull in the evening.’ ‘Ah,’ said the Engineer Commander, ‘I married ten years ago, and haven’t spent more than a fortnight at a time with my wife ever since. Some people have all the luck.’