Crowds of soldiers thronged the platform, while hundreds of their friends who came to see them off made it difficult to move; many of the Tommies were shouting and cheering, while others found their way into the carriages as if anxious to be quiet.
"They seem splendid fellows," said Alice, "but some of them are very rough, aren't they?"
"Just a bit rough," replied Tom, "but they are all right. Some of those very chaps who look rough and common are just heroes, you know; they would face any kind of danger to do a pal a good turn. Perhaps you may not think it to look at them, but their hearts are true as gold. This war has made a wonderful difference in them."
Alice pressed his arm convulsively.
"You know that book you lent me the other day," went on Tom, "that book of Kipling's where there is a story about a ship that found herself. It means a lot, does that story. That's what this war has done for a lot of us chaps, it's helped us to find ourselves."
The guard blew his whistle, and there was a slamming of doors.
"Good-bye, Alice," and Tom held her close to his heart. "The war will be over soon, and then, please God, I will come back again."
"Yes, yes, Tom, and—and you know I will be always thinking of you, and praying for you."
"Ay, lass, I do, that's why I'm not a bit afraid. It's not good-bye, Alice, it's only au revoir as the French say. You will be brave, won't you?"
"Yes, Tom," she spoke bravely, although her voice was husky; "and—and,
Tom"—this with a sob—"I shall be loving you—loving you all the time."