Some men brush one's fur the wrong way, and others smooth it back again. I had been so rumpled by the D.A.D.M.S. that every bristle of my not too gentle nature was standing on end—it was not only what he said, but the manner of the saying; yet the A.D.M.S., with one gentle, kindly stroke of common sense, had soothed and made me human once again. I felt my wrath slipping quietly away, and I basked for a moment in the sunshine of a genial personality. I gratefully murmured:
"Thank you, sir. I shall tell him."
"I trust your hospital will soon prove itself a credit to your staff and to Canada. Good night, and good luck," he said, as he shook me warmly by the hand.
It was midnight of the third day after this interview. The orderly on duty in the hall was suddenly startled by the sharp ring of the telephone bell. He sprang to his feet and put the strange French receiver to his ear.
"Yes, this is the Canadian Hospital," he answered; and a distant voice gave this message:
"A train-load of three hundred wounded will arrive at the station at two a.m. Be ready for them!"
CHAPTER VIII
At last the time for action had come. Three hundred wounded would arrive in two hours; one-fifth the number would throw the average city hospital into confusion. Nurses and officers hurried from their villas to the hospital. The cooks and orderlies were already on duty, and the hospital presented a scene of bustling but systematic activity.
Our ten wards, each named after a province of our beloved Dominion, were soon ready for the reception of patients, and the deft hands of the nursing sisters added the final touch of extra preparation.
The colonel's motor car throbbed in waiting at the door, and ambulance after ambulance, with its quota of stretcher-bearers, whirled away into the darkness of the forest on the road to the station. It was a clear, cold nights. The ground was hardened by the frost, and the pale quarter-moon cast a faint chill light over the trees.