e you to Major Lacey, and the other officers of
your new corps."

CHAPTER SIX.

"You miserable, ugly, lazy nigger, take that, and that, and that."

There was the sound of blows at each _that_, and then a volley of abuse
as I neared the officers' quarters, and every word and blow came through
the open windows.

"Confound you! do you think I keep you to do nothing but sleep? I'll
have my horses look better than any one else's, and they look worse,"
came clearly; and there were more blows, while a group of white-clothed
syces, two of whom held horses, looked at one another, and I saw that
their faces wore a troubled aspect, as they whispered as soon as the
English sentry on guard by the gateway turned his back to march steadily
in the shade to the end of his beat, but as soon as he faced round they
stood like bronze statues.

Then came more blows, and it was evident to me that the trouble, or
whatever it might be, was taking place in the quarters to which I had
been directed; but I wanted to make sure, and I turned out of my way to
meet the sentry, who halted and saluted as I drew near.

"Which are Lieutenant Barton's quarters?" I said.

"Straight in front, sir. Through that door where the horses stand."

"Is there something the matter?"

The man grinned. "Lieutenant's licking his syce, sir, for being dirty."

"Oh!" I said; and I was about to turn away, when the man said
respectfully--

"Beg pardon, sir; you don't know me again."

"No," I said, looking at the man in a puzzled way. "Yes, of course; you
are Denny. I did not expect to find you here. How are you?"

"Nicely, sir, thank ye. I was picked with two more to enter this troop.
Very glad, sir, you are appointed to it."

"Thank you, Denny," I said. "It is pleasant to see the same faces."

"Beg pardon, sir," continued the man eagerly. "I oughtn't to talk like
this, perhaps, but I got a letter from London yesterday, and she's all
right, and ain't no worse for being pretty nigh drowned; and she said if
ever I see the young gent as saved her life, as she'd always pray for
him that he might live long and die happy."

"Oh, don't talk about it, Denny," I said hastily. "Thank you. That
door where the syces are with the horses?"

"Don't stand sulking there, you black-looking scoundrel. It won't do
with me; I'll cut it out of you."

There was the sound of more blows, and then, as I nearly reached the
doorway, where the native servants made