the common sort.  Hubert, arriving in his best fighting trim, was at once ejected by the policeman at the door.  He underestimated the importance of that official and his office, otherwise he would not have adopted the just-dropping-in-to-have-a-chat-with-a-friend-inside attitude.  From the constable’s cold response he realised that, in tackling the W.O. single-handed, he was attempting a big thing, whereas the W.O., in tackling him, was not under the same disadvantage.  Then he did what was unusual with him; he paused to think before resuming the offensive.  What he wanted, he felt, was big guns.  The House of Commons caught his eye and reminded him of politicians.  He recalled a slight acquaintance with one of the more important of these and went round to call upon him personally.  It was not his idea to obtain any such authority as would demolish all opposition at the W.O.; he just hoped to get a personal chit, which would act as a smoke barrage and at least cover his advance right into the middle of the enemy defences.

So Hubert asked for the politician in person, but only got his secretary.  This gentleman, having elicited that Hubert’s train for France left at 5 P.M., regretted that the politician would not be visible till 6.  This opposition warmed Hubert’s blood; he asked for a statement in writing.  After some little discussion he got it, since the secretary, for all his caution, could see no harm in an unofficial note, addressed to no one in particular, and stating merely that Hubert wanted to see the politician and the politician was out till 6 P.M.

The little captain is one of those who state their grievances to themselves, when no other audience is available.  During his return journey to the W.O. mental processes of no little heat and significance took place in his busy head, he putting up an overwhelming case to show why his leave ought to be, and must be, extended.  The force of this case gave him such a burning sense of justice as to carry him, this time, safely past the policeman.

Five rows of barbed wire, two of them electrified, would be but a poor substitute for the barriers of the W.O.  Before you set foot on the staircase you have to produce a ticket, and it is supposed that the porter, who has the forms to be filled in, forfeits a day’s pay every time he parts with one.  Hubert, gradually losing confidence, wrote upon the form all he could think of about himself, and handed it to the porter, who received it with reluctance, read it with suspicion, and disappeared with a grunt.  What he did with it is not known; probably someone got into communication with the B.E.F. to know if such a person as Hubert existed, and, if so, why?  Meanwhile Hubert had good time to realise that no one loved him and that this was cold brutal war at last.

Bit by bit the porter drifted back and gave Hubert his form, now stamped and become his ticket.  The porter having finished with him,