Mental Influence

904 IMPROVEMENT ERA

told, one in a thouoperation were performed; and upon being determinedly said, I will take that chance; go sand, he very altogether, because he ahead. And he recovered, mainly, if not

The Emmanuel Movement, and all other healing cults of force and power of the day, mainly depend upon the corrective their marvelous work. It is true, they the mind to accomplish methods of reaching the same results, but with have different them all, so far as my observation goes, the power of mental suggestion,brought about, some times by hypnotic influence, in extreme cases, is the main curative process.

British Official Photograph. © Underwood & I) nderwood, New York '

STARTING OVER THE TOP AT NIGHT. This most remarkable flashlight photograph taken in a British trench shows a working party starting out over the top at night. The soldiers are carrying duck-boards, called trench mats by the Tommies, to an outpost across No Man's Land. In the upper right hand corner a German flare can be seen bursting, while down in the trench, troops with bayoneted rifles are on the alert to cover the working party.

The Escape

By Henry Nicol Adamson

Nell, her big eyes opened wide with fright, ears strained to catch every sound, paced up and down the little kitchen with quick, nervous footsteps. Four hours ago Manuel, her husband, had gone out to get food, and he had not returned. Had he been taken, deported for work in Germany? Perhaps to fight against the people he loved? The thought made her sick with dread. Should she go and look for him? Yes, yes! Anything would be better than this awful uncertainty. She pulled the heavy bolt of the door, and with the incoming of the cold air the child in his cradle raised a feeble wail. She shut the door hastily and bolted it. Women knew the value of bolts and bars in Belgium in the year 1914. "Hush! hush, my baby!" she whispered, bending over the child. "Don't cry, dear little one. Sleep!" Tenderly she rocked him until the eyes so full of wonder closed gently. "Oh, God!" she prayed, choking down her sobs, "send my husband safely home." Herstrained ears caught the sound of footsteps in the street. She sprang to her feet and listened. Three knocks at the door. Her husband's signal, but they were given hastily, and he always knocked slowly, she hesitated a moment. "Open, Nell, quickly, for the love of God!" It was her husband's voice, but strained and uneven. She rushed to the door and opened it. He ran in and another man followed. Nell's nerves, strained to breaking point in these fearful days, gave way. She screamed. "Be silent!" commanded her husband, bolting the door. "Nell, I was taken for deportment to Germany. This man got me away from the crowd in the dark. We must get across the frontier quickly. It's only five miles. This man will guide us. I couldn't go without you. Come! Come now." — — "The frontier, Manuel" she clasped his hand "I cannot! Baby might cry and we should be discovered. You go, beloved; I will go somehow later." "No, no; they have my name. You must come with me. It's the only way." "But baby?" she repeated.

906 IMPROVEMENT ERA

"Drug the child. That medicine the doctor gave you when you couldn't sleep. keep him silent. Don't hesitate. I It will cannot go without you." Nell, dazed with her overwrought feelings, mechanically got the medicine from the cupboard and gave it to the child as Manuel turned to the other man. "I will light the lamp. I have not seen you in the dark nor heard your voice. Let me see your face that I may know my friend." "You know me, Manuel!" Nell started. It was Gavere, the big, laughing Frenchman who had worked with Manuel in the leather factory before the war. They had been called "the brothers," for the ties of friendship had been strong between the silent, grave Manuel and the gay, debonnair Gavere, until their path had been crossed by Nell. They had both loved her, and Manuel had won her. As in a mirror she could see them as they had faced each other four years ago, when Gavere's eyes had blazed hate when her husband had told him that Nell was his. The love of the friends was swamped and lost, and they faced each other with fury. Manuel gazed at the other man. Could this sad-eyed man with mouth set in lines of grim resolution be the laughing Gavere of past days? "Manuel," said the Frenchman, "we parted hating each other for a woman's sake. Let us meet as brothers." But Manuel, like all slow-thinking men, treasured remembrances. For years Gavere's last words to him had rung in his soul: "Nell shall be mine if I take her over your dead body." And fear of the threat tortured him day by day, for he loved his wife. "You could have let me go and taken Nell. You love her," he said, heavily. "I brought you back because I love her. Come! Come quickly, before the moon rises." "You love my wife?" he repeated, his face flushing with anger. "You madden me! She will go with you to safety if you hasten. Wrap the baby up well, Nell; it is cold. You, Manuel, put this in your pocket." He handed Manuel money, which the husband would have rejected. "Take it, you will need it." The Frenchman's old, joyous power to command conquered. Manuel and Nell obeyed him like children. Gavere opened the door and looked up and down the quiet street. "All is well. Come!" They followed him out. He shut the door. Then down the street they walked at moderate pace. Nell clutched her baby close to her breast, fearful of the drug she had given him,