"The name suits you," he said. "But what have you been up to?"
"Taking French leave and German toggery, sir," said Ginger. "Beg pardon; could you give me a drink? My mouth's that parched. I'm all of a shake."
Refreshed by a cup of tea, Ginger told his story.
"A regular romance," said the lieutenant. "You're as plucky as you are lucky. By George! I should like to have seen the German taking off his uniform. He must have been very mad."
"He had a very swanky shirt, sir, but I couldn't stop to take that. Can I get back to my billet, sir?"
"Certainly. I'll send a man with you out of the trenches. You go round by the church, you know."
"I'll find my way, sir, never fear. If you'd give me a cigarette or two...."
"But you'll never get through in that uniform. I can't give you a change. Stay, I'll write you a note; don't wear the helmet."
"No, sir: I'll send it home to the kids, along with the Iron Cross."
"You've deserved that, at any rate. Well, good luck to you. I wish you were one of my men."