"It amounted to so little，beside the other hurts you had to attend，"he answered."I am shamed，mamselle，that I came to you at all.A little water and a cloth will make it all right."Patsy had already gone for the water and in a few minutes Beth was deftly cleansing the wound.
"How did it happen，Maurie？"asked Jones."I was withyou most of the time and noticed nothing wrong.Besides，you said nothing about it.""It was on the road，just as we picked up that fallensoldier with the hole in his back.The fight jumped toward us pretty quick，you remember，and while I sat at the wheel the bullet came.I knew when it hit me，but I also knew I could move my arm，so what did it matter？I told myself to wait till we got to the ship.Had we stayed there longer，we might allhave stopped bullets—and some bullets might have stopped us."He grinned，as if the aphorisma amused him，and added："To know when to run is the perfection of courage.""Does it hurt？"asked Uncle John，as Beth applied the lint and began winding the bandage.
"It reminds me it is there，monsieur；but I will be readyfor another trip to—morrow.Thank you，mamselle.Instead of the tea，I would like a little brandy.""Give him some in the tea，"suggested Gys，noting that Maurie swayed a little."Sit down，man，and be comfortable.That's it.I'd give a million dollars for your nerve.""Have you so much money？"asked Maurie.
"No."
"Then I cannot see that you lack nerve，"said the little Belgian thoughtfully."I was watching you to—day，M'sieur Doctor，and I believe what you lack is courage."Gys stared so hard at him with the one good eye that even Maurie became embarrassed and turned away his head.Sipping his tea and brandy he presently resumed，in a casual tone：
"Never have I indulged in work of more interest than this.We go into the thick of the fight，yet are we safe from harm.We do good to both sides，because the men who do the fighting are not to blame for the war，at all.The leaders of politics say to the generals：'We have declared war；go and fight.'The generals say to the soldiers：'We are told to fight，so come on.We do not know why，but it is our duty，because it is our profession.So go and die，or get shot to pieces，or lose some arms and legs，as it may happen.'The business of the soldiers is to obey；they must back up the policies of their country，right or wrong.But do those who send them into danger ever get hurt？Not to the naked eye.""Why，you're quite a philosopher，Maurie，"said Patsy."It is true，"agreed the Belgian."But philosophy is likecourage—easy to assume.We struta and talk big；we call the politicians sharks，the soldiers fools；but does it do any good？The war will go on；the enemy will destroy our homes，separate our families，take away our bread and leave us to starve；but we have the privilege to philosophizeb，if we like.For myself，I thank them for nothing！""I suppose you grieve continually for your wife，"said Patsy.
"Not so much that，mamselle，but I know she is grievingfor me，"he replied.
"As soon as we find time，"continued the girl，"we intend to search for your wife and children.I am sure we can find them for you."Maurie moved uneasily in his chair.
"I beg you to take no trouble on my account，"said he."With the Red Cross you have great work to accomplish.What is the despair of one poor Walloon to you？""It is a great deal to us，Maurie，"returned the girl，earnestly."You have been a friend in need；without you we could not have made our dash to the front to—day.We shall try to repay you by finding your wife."He was silent，but his troubled look told of busy thoughts.
"What does she look like？"inquired Beth."Have you her photograph？""No；she would not make a good picture，mamselle，"he answered with a sigh."Clarette is large；she is fat；she has a way of scowlinga when one does not bring in more wood than the fire can eat up；and she is very religious.""With that description I am sure we can find her，"criedPatsy enthusiastically.
He seemed disturbed.
"If you please，"said he plaintively，"Clarette is quite able to take care of herself.She has a strong will.""But if you know she is safe it will relieve your anxiety，"suggested Beth."You told us yesterday you had been searching everywhere for her.""If I said everywhere，I was wrong，for poor Clarettemust be somewhere.And since yesterday I have been thinking with more deliberation，and I have decided，"he added，his tone becoming confidential，"that it is better I do not find Clarette just now.It might destroy my usefulness to the Red Cross.""But your children！"protested Patsy."Surely you cannot rest at ease with your two dear children wandering about，in constant danger.""To be frank，mamselle，"said he，"they are not mychildren.I had a baby，but it was killed，as I told you.The boy and girl I have mentioned were born when Clarette was the wife of another man—a blacksmitha at Dinant—who had a sad habit of beating her.""But you love the little ones，I am sure."He shook his head.
"They have somewhat the temper of their father，the blacksmith.I took them when I took Clarette—just as I took the silver spoons and the checkeredb tablespread she brought with her—but now that a cruel fate has separated me from the children，perhaps it is all for the best."The doctor gave a snort of disgust，while Ajo smiled.The girls were too astonished to pursue the conversation，but now realized that Maurie's private affairs did not require their good offices to untanglec.Uncle John was quite amused at theBelgian's confession and was the only one to reply.
"Fate often seems cruel when she is in her happiest mood，"said he."Perhaps，Maurie，your Clarette will come to you without your seeking her，for all Belgium seems headed toward France just now.What do you think？Will the Germanscapture Dunkirk？"The man brightened visibly at this turn in the conversation."Not to—day，sir；not for days to come，"he replied."The French cannot afford to lose Dunkirk，and by to—morrow they will pour an irresistiblea horde against the German invader.If we stay here，we are sure to remain in the rear ofthe firing line."
