THE COUNTERBALANCE

Star (Christchurch), Issue 12568, 4 March 1919, Page 8

THE COUNTERBALANCE

t(Br PAUL TRENT), CHAPTER XXXV. Geoffrey had grown, a little tired of fish ting, t or he had been in the. trenched lor many weary months. However, the battle of the Somme with the, British successes had put - new heart into him, For the first time, he felt no doubt as to our ultimate success on •the western front, and lie. with the rest of the army, possessed the confidence which makes for victory. Then, too. the attitude of the German prisoners, their utter dejection, their refusal to fight when attacked with the bayonet, and their abject surrendering*. caused him to hope that the Mar would soon be at an end. (,ike so many others, Nature had not made Geoffrey a soldier. But lie possessed brains, and a keen sense of loyalty; moreover, the issues that, depended'on the. result of the Great War were great incentives. The Blankshires had had more than their share of th? fighting.- Right through tlie war no one had done heticr than the- Territorial regiments. Just os the push started, Reynold Hurst had been promoted major.' Although he and Geoffrey had never gone, hack to the old terms of their friendship they naturally saw a good deal of oiie another, • and a liking had sprung up between thorn that differed from their former relationship. Geoffrey was one of the first to see Ffinwt drop from a _ bullet which hit him just .-as the. regiment had reached, its objective, and the fighting was over for, the day. Hurst was taken .to the nearest-clearing station, and. Blair accompanied. him.; The surgeon made a rapid examination, and motioned to Geoffrey to come away. “ T ;cnn do nothing, except to relieve his suffering. He may live for an hour." he stated. Geoffrey sent for one of . his subalterns, gave- him instructions, and then returned to Hurst, who was quite conscious, and did -not seem to bo suffering acutely; . “I’m done for, Geoff' and'Pm glad you're here. Y on won't go away ?” “No, I.’re arranged to stay.”’ Ho had seen hundreds die,’ hut this man had been very dear to him, and his voice was not quite steady. “ T ye always been fond of you, and when we drifted apart it wasn’t mv fmili. As a matter of fact, tvo uover really knew one another. I was not w,hat yoii thought ntc to be.’G, “ Doivt talk,” Geoffrey gently expostulated. “ RHiy not? It’s the last chance, I shall have in this world- Mv God I if you know how jealous I’ve been of that man, Statliam. But he was the bettor friend for you. He’s a white man, and I've never been quite white.” o° n . , 'h tn-lk rot,” Blair said huskily , ■ There r always been a streak.; Times without number I’ve been tempted to try and get hold of Ruth by making trouble between yon. She needn’t have seen that letter. I could have saved vou from that.- It was I who practically forced your father to write that letter. You see. I wanted Ruth. I've always wonted her, My love for her has been the only good thing about It's .rather queer, but now Im dying I want* her marry you." Geoff, you’,ve been a, quixotic fool. 1 can’t sot myself up as a judge of morality, but I’ll swear that there was no real reason for you to-carry out the 'terms of that letter. For one thing, it was written on impulse, and when he w-as dying. No man’s mind is then normal. Mine isn’t now—Pm talking too much, and saying a lot of nonsense. ... You’might give mo your hand.” Geoffrey drew closer and took Hurst’s hand; ; “A mans death in this war must count as something. But 1 wonder if I can make up for an ill-spent life. Since I joined up, Ive thought of nothing but making myself efficient.' I’ve tried to be a good soldier, and to do my duty.’’ ■ _ None has done better. You’ve the JJ.b.O. and the Military Cross.” “Decorations are purely a matter of luck- I know that. Where one gets noticed, hundreds are unseen.” Just then the colonel came in. ‘‘Hu-t, I’m more sorry than I can tell, he said, and was deeply moved. That’s all right, sir. 1 can’t write out my report. There are several men I' want to bring before yodr notice ' Gaptaau Blair .did splendid- work. Once, when his company hesitated, be ran forward alone and rallied.them. Then the sergeant-major, I forget his name, and young ThompsonGeoffrey moved away, but Hurst callcd to him uot to leave. The colonel stayed for a few \ minutes, and when he had left, Geoffrey ,returned and-sat down by the stretcher. “ I've left all !■ have -to Ruth—it isn't very much. T should like her to hare ray medals.' Geoffrey, I'feel as if we ve ■ never been estranged. Weren't pals, at Cheltenham"? After all, I believe the school days are the best. I’m talking like a garrulous old woman when i ought to be saying my prayers. Now. you can cut along. You might sond tlie Padre here. ,J Hurst could , just raise his’ hand, which Geoffrey: held' and pressed. “ Good-bye, old chap.” J “One thing before you go. I want to ask a great favour." “I’ll.do anything 1 can.” “ Anything?” .' ' , “Anything lean.” ' ' , “Then make it up.with Ruth. I feel more or elss responsible for parting you tr °™ T .,, cr ; Wcm’E yon make it up?”’ ,111 do niy best. I cau’t promise.” I suppose 1 must be content. Don’t take _ unnecessar.i risks. I’ve often a°hullete ’ 0111 Ve 1)0eU tr yi Dg to meet bw 'm ll tuke ca:re of -mjsolf. Good- “ Good-bye, and the best of luck Biair soon found the Chaplain, and then hastened to ;; the trenches which had been captured, and upon which his men were working strenuously, so as to be ready for any counter-attack. All lus former affection for Hurst had retnrnec and he was very sad. An hour later the Chaplain came up to himHurst has gone. He wished mo to i emind you of your promise if Thank yen. Padre. We shall miss “T never understood him. He's a better man than I thought him . to be. 1 <'( wf 5 a lvn - vs a Turn soldier." The men loved him. I’ve heard t lem swearing vengeance on the Bodies the next time, they get near them, which I don’t think will, bo. long. We arc in a nasty position, rather far advanced. and 1 can see, some stern fighting ahead. “You won’t mind. that. Blair. Yon are another man I’ve never understood You seem to revel in Woodshed, and man} r '°” * r ° * rcr - y happy “Is anyone reallv happy? We’ve lost hoavilv today. ’ ‘ T ' ro many letters to write,” the Padre answered, and sidled deeply At daybreak the freshly won trenches were heavily bombarded, and afterwards the Gormans ' advanced hi. strength, coming close to the trenches but thev met. with so worm a reception that they broke and retired in confusion. However, the Blankshires held a. position that meant a great deal to the enemy, and if they continued to hold it n further retirement on the part, of the Germans would be necessary. Consequently a . further furious bombardment took place, and then another attack even in greater strength. This time they succeeded in getting close to the parapet, and Blair ordered his men to leave the trenches to meet them. A fierce hand-to-hand combat, took place. No quarter was asked or given. For a. few moments die issue was hi doubt, but finally the attack weakened a little. One German officer was in advance of them, and refusing to surrender emptied his automatic into Geoffrey, who sank to the ground with

a moan. , Hip men saw him fall, and it seemed to drive them mad. for with cries of rage they fought like fiends pursuing and slaughtering the enemy without mercy, until hardly a man of them remained. The Padre had seen Blair fall, and he accompanied him to the clearing station, which wai full of wounded. An examination was made and field dressings applied to the wounds. “We will send him along to the hospital by the first ambulance,” intimated a medical officer. “Will he die?” the Padre asked in a low voice- • “ He’s pretty bad. But he’s young and strong. Tho sooner he’s operated on the better.” When Geoffrey recovered consciousness, lie was lying in Rouen hospital, and the bullets had been removed. A sister was leaning over him, and he tried to speak. “Drink this.” she said firmly, and obeying her, he lapsed back, into unconsciousness. A couple of days later be wa« moved to the- hospital train: big cot wag ndeded for more urgent oases, and there was no room further down the line. A sister came and made him comfortable. and he watched with. lack-, •lustre eyes the ward being filled up. There seemed to ho, no 'Hurry, find yet the work was done with dispatch. ■ ■ Many of the wounded Were smoking and exchanging remarks- YVith mind still half dazed, Geoffrey could understand that things were going on very well. “Did tho Blankshires hold the trenches?” he. gasped, and tho sister ■came hurrying up.to him. ..... “You mnsn’t talk.” “I must know,” insisted Geoffrey. “Y’es, the Blankshires held on,” the sister informed him. “ A major over there was .close to the. regiments, and says you men did magnificently.” “Thank God for that!” “ There’s , nothing to' worry about. Wo .arc doing very well.” ” “Am I gping to get_better?” .“Of course .you are’, I ’, she answered cheerfully. “But you mustn’t. talkYou’ll send.your temperature up.” 'She placed a thermometer in his mouth. “ That’ll keep you quiet,” she said lightly. . One cannot say too much for the sisters; on the hospital trains. It is strenuous work for mouths on end, and they never leave tho trains day or night, and are always ready with their sympathy. They arc not, machines, but real human women- And the same can he said of tho surgeons. Most of them are young men .who have left comfortable practices at home. After the war there will, be hundreds of men qualified to be specialists in all branches of surgery. The train travelled slowly. With serious, cases on board there must be ho risk of jolting, and it seemed to Geoffrey that the journey would never come to an end. . Not that he cared very much, for he Was beyond caring what happened if only , the terrible pain would cease- ' ’ Then ho began to think of Ruth, and remembered the promise he had madeCould he keep it? His desire to'do so-, was overwhelming. If only she could come to him now, the pain would’not be so bad. Hurst wished him to marry her. In his frame of-raind, that seemed important. Hurst was a good fellow, and he was dead. Yes, ho must keep his- word. ■ . Where was Ruth? Was she still in France?- If so, he could send her a wire, and perhaps she .might, come to see him. "What was the-nuhiber other camp in the valley? , ‘He had forgotten, but he could address the wire care of the Y.M.C. A. So ho called for an orderly—the. Sister was in another ward. Yes. the orderly would do his,best'to.send off the message, but there' would- be no chance till the base was, Reached. “ Come to mo at once. T want you.— Geoffrey.” Yes, that would bb sufficient,-'.and she would, come, if she were there; Just then the sister came back ami gave him a quick, anxious look. ■ “Fetch Captain Bnldock at once. Yon should not' have allowed him to talk,” she said sharply-. When the surgeon came along, Godfrey was unconscious. Some of his bandages were taken off- . Hemorrhage. It’s a good job we shall soon bo at the base,” he muttered. Tho outskirts of the town had been reached, but it was a slow and tedious Journey to the quay. Captain Bnldock and the Bister stayed beside him. . It was their pride that there'should beiio deaths on the train, and ! -this-patient was very bad indeed. 1 It was a blazing hot day,' and the surgeon wiped the perspiration from his forehead. With the other -hand he was ganging Geoffrey’s pulse. Bridges were crossed, and the pace of the, tipain. became even slower. “Thank God we’re here!” he muttered. And thou the. train -stopped so abruptly that he swore -quietly to himself. ■ '■ - ••• (To be continued.)