It was half an hour after midnight, when they drew up in Ypres market square and glanced down the beautiful length of the Cloth Hall, that building of massive and light-winged proportion. It was the last time they were ever to see it. It has fallen under the shelling, and cannot be rebuilt. They paused to pick their road back to Furnes, for in the darkness it was hard to find the street that led out of the town. They thought they had found it, and went swiftly down to the railway station before they knew their mistake. As they started to turn back and try again, a great shell fell into the little artificial lake just beyond them. It roared under the surface, and then shot up a fountain of water twenty feet high, with edges of white foam. "It is time to go," said Hilda; "they will send another shell. They always do. They are going to bombard the town." They spurted back to the square, and as they circled it, still puzzled for the way of escape, two shells went sailing high over them and fell into the town beyond. "Jack Johnsons," said Woffington. This time, he made the right turn, back of the Cloth Hall into the safe country. Never had it felt so good to Hilda to leave a place. "I am afraid," she said to herself. Now she knew why brave men sometimes ran like rabbits. * * * * * "Go back to London, and report what we have seen," urged Dr. McDonnell. "We can set England aflame with it. The English people will rise to it, if they know their wounded are being neglected." "It takes a lot to rouse the English," said Hilda; "that is their greatest quality, their steadiness. In our country we'd have a crusade over the situation, and then we'd forget all about it. But you people won't believe it for another year or so. When you do believe it, you'll cure it." "You will see," replied the Doctor. "I'll try," said Hilda. * * * * * It was one of those delightful mixed grills in Dover Street, London, where men and women are equally welcome. Dover Street is lined with them, pleasant refuges for the wives of army officers, literary women of distinction, and the host of well-to-do uncelebrated persons, who make the rich background of modern life. Dr. McDonnell's warm friend, the Earl of Tottenham, and his wife, were entertaining Hilda at dinner, and, knowing she had something to tell of conditions at Ypres, they had made Colonel Albert Bevan one of the party.