High above him on the sky-line of the cliff he saw the three strangers he had served at luncheon.

They were driving before them three innocuous golf balls.
"A nation of wasters," muttered the German, "sleeping at their posts.
They are fiddling while England falls!" Mr.Shutliffe, of Stiffkey, had led his cow in from the marsh, and was about to close the cow-barn door, when three soldiers appeared suddenly around the wall of the village church.

They ran directly toward him.

It was nine o'clock, but the twilight still held.

The uniforms the men wore were unfamiliar, but in his day Mr.Shutliffe had seen many uniforms, and to him all uniforms looked alike.