After a half hour on deck Maud returned to the hospital section quite refreshed, and proceeded to care for the patients.  She alone assisted Gys and Kelsey to amputate the German’s foot, an operation the man bore splendidly, quite unaware, however, that they had applied local anaesthetics to dull the pain.  Dr. Gys was a remarkably skillful surgeon and he gave himself no rest until every one of the eleven had received such attention as his wounds demanded.  Even Kelsey felt the strain by that time and as Maud expressed her intention of remaining to minister to the wants of the crippled soldiers, the two doctors went on deck for a smoke and a brief relaxation.

By this time Beth had quieted Patsy, mainly by letting her have her cry out, and now brought her on deck to join the others and get the fresh air.  So quickly had events followed one another on this fateful day that it was now only four o’clock in the afternoon.  None of them had thought of luncheon, so the ship’s steward now brought tea and sandwiches to those congregated on deck.

As they sat together in a group, drinking tea and discussing the exciting events of the day, little Maurie came sauntering toward them and removed his cap.

“Your pardon,” said he, “but—­are the wounded all cared for?”

“As well as we are able to care for them at present,” answered Beth.  “And let me thank you, Jakob Maurie—­let us all thank you—­for the noble work you did for us to-day.”

“Pah! it was nothing,” said he, shifting from one foot to another.  “I enjoyed it, mamselle.  It was such fun to dive into the battle and pull out the wounded.  It helped them, you see, and it gave us a grand excitement.  Otherwise, had I not gone with you, I would be as ignorant as all in Dunkirk still are, for the poor people do not yet know what has happened at the front.”

“We hardly know ourselves what has happened,” said Uncle John.  “We can hear the boom of guns yet, even at this distance, and we left the battle line flowing back and forth like the waves of the ocean.  Have a cup of tea, Maurie?”

The man hesitated.

“I do not like to disturb anyone,” he said slowly, “but if one of the young ladies is disengaged I would be grateful if she looks at my arm.”

“Your arm!” exclaimed Beth, regarding him wonderingly as he stood before her.

Maurie smiled.

“It is hardly worth mentioning, mamselle, but a bullet—­”

“Take off your coat,” she commanded, rising from her seat to assist him.

Maurie complied.  His shirt was stained with blood.  Beth drew out her scissors and cut away the sleeve of his left arm.  A bullet had passed directly through the flesh, but without harming bone or muscle.

“Why didn’t you tell us before?” she asked reproachfully.

“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.”