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but they haven’t learned how to dodge shell-holes. I served my time behind the wheel of an ambulance in France. That was the place for rough going. This is nothing. Over there we didn’t give two hoots what happened to the bus so long as the wheels would go round. Hang on!”

The car bumped over another mound of rubble, then pickgd up a little speed as the car ahead drew away again.

On this final thirty miles of road the southward traffic became more frequent. A hospital ambulance came around the bend ahead and passed with fiercely-gleaming lights and ringing bell. Harley caught a glimpse of grey blankets and a woman’s stooping back in the lighted interior.

“He’s moving,” remarked Roy admiringly.

“Why can’t we?” asked Harley in a high-pitched voice. “The road must be fairly safe.”

“For those who know it, perhaps. That ambulance has travelled this road a lot during the last twelve hours, I’ll bet. Knows all the good patches. We’ll get there, all in good time.”

Harley beat his hands upon his knees in his agitation.

“Oh, this is hell!” he muttered. “Just plain hell!”

Roy nodded in agreement.

The red glow in the sky was brighter now, two distinct clouds of angry colour, the more distant showing where Napier burned more fiercely than Hastings. The colour flickered like an aurora, its dull red flaming to brilliant orange, then fading almost completely, only to flame again as the morning breeze fanned the conflagration.

It was a wonderful spectacle for pleasure-seekers, and a living horror for the stunned inhabitants of the stricken towns, and for those who rushed to their relief.

In the slow dawn telegraph poles leaned at