THE ANGELS OF MONS
"It's all right now, isn't it?" he said, speaking in good English.
"Yes, thank you, sir, as right as can be. I hope to be back again soon."
"Well, well; but how did you come here? Where did you get that?" He pointed to the wound on the soldier's forehead.
The soldier put his hand up to his brow and looked dazed and puzzled.
"Well, sir," he said at last, "it was like this, to begin at the beginning. You know how we came over in August, and there we were in the thick of it, as you might say, in a day or two. An awful time it was, and I don't know how I got through it alive. My best friend was killed dead beside me as we lay in the trenches. By Cambrai, I think it was.
"Then things got a little quieter for a bit, and I was quartered in a village for the best part of a week. She was a very
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