CHAPTER II.

FROM MALTA TO MARSEILLES.


From the bows of our boat as she lay in harbour at Marseilles, I
"spotted" three typical figures. The one holding the rope is a French
sailor, the one at the bottom of the picture is a French gendarme, and
the third is a Ghurka, one of our fine sturdy hillmen from India, who
had come out to France to stand by the Empire.

Marseilles was a most wonderful sight at the time I was there, and
although I had made many previous visits in normal times, when I had
greatly admired its grand proportions, none of them had given me any
idea of what its appearance would be when it became the clearing station
in the time of such a great war, and one of the chief bases of all food
supplies. Troops of all descriptions were working like ants by day and
by night, unloading boats to the huge stores of all descriptions of
provender, and loading the trains with all kinds of artillery,
ammunition, Red Cross wagons, motors, horses, and all the paraphernalia
of modern warfare.

The town is the third largest in France, and the chief Mediterranean
seaport. Its history teems with exciting incidents of plague, fire,
sacking, siege, and hand-to-hand fighting, so it is quite in keeping
that it should take so important a part in the present conflict. It was