from the roof one may look over nearly the whole of greater London. We can see nothing of it to-night through the mist that lies on it like a shroud, but the mind's eye is full of pictures. The same warning must have been given to the whole of the London factories at the same time, and what is happening here is almost certainly happening everywhere. Up yonder in the filling factories, over there among the shot-vats in the fields, and down on the dark promontory at the bend of the river, the girls will be singing, as they are singing here, to crush down fear and keep brave hearts, while the big furnaces will be locked hard and the hundred and twenty miles of railway standing still. One has the sense of all the munition factories within the twenty-five mile area of London crouching in the dark and waiting. While one waits oneself, with the singing and the dancing in one's ears, it is impossible not to remember the night before Waterloo, when the beauty and chivalry of Brussels were
