He glanced round the orderly-room and nodded with satisfaction as he
noted that everything was as it used to be. Then he held out his hand
to the sergeant-major.

"Good-day, Schumann!" he said cheerily. "You're still here? How are
you?"

"I'm well, sir, thank God. And, beg pardon, sir, but how are you?"

Reimers looked surprised. "I'm quite well, of course. Why should I not
be?"

"Well, sir, you had sick-leave last year----?"

"Ah, yes, that's all gone, Schumann; all gone--not a trace of it left."

"I'm delighted to hear it, sir," said the sergeant-major; "and, if you
will excuse me, sir," he went on somewhat hesitatingly, "I'm glad, very
glad, you've come back to the sixth, especially after you've fought for
the Boers. I should like to go out there myself, you know, sir."

"Oh, no, Schumann," said Reimers, "you must not think of that. I don't
believe you would like it. There's another side to that affair. Stay
contentedly here. This is the place for you. Besides, the poor devils
have next to no artillery left."

Lieutenant Reimers took Schumann's familiarity in good part. He
recognised that it was the strong love of justice which made him
espouse the cause of the weak.

"No, Schumann," he went on: "that is no place for you. Wait; wait
quietly here. Mark my words! There will be work enough! The lessons
learnt over there in China, too, will have to be worked out here, and
for that we shall want our best men. You will be wanted. If only we had
more like you!"

Reimers emphasised the last words, and heartily wrung the
sergeant-major's hand.

Then he put on his helmet again and strode out of the room; a man,
indeed, over whom the soldier heart of Schumann rejoiced. One could
have confidence in a man like that, with his quick penetrating glance
and his easy, erect carriage. He was a handsome fellow too, fair-haired
and of open countenance, only just a trifle thin from his campaigning
experiences. Not one of those young puppies, like some of the officers,
who caused the sergeant-major, notwithstanding his due respect for his
superiors, to shake his head sadly at times.

Schumann seated himself at his table. But despite all his efforts he
could not concentrate his attention on the recruiting papers. The words
of Reimers haunted him: that he, Schumann, would be wanted. That was
the second time the same thing had been said to him this very day.
There must be something in it. He felt as though he had a bad
consc