he way to address an officer."

"That will do, Mark Frayne," cried Richard, sternly. "It is time we
understood one another."

"Mark Frayne!" cried the officer, angrily. Then, with a half-laugh,
"Oh! I see--205th, from the Town Barracks. You have got hold of my
name, my lad."

"Got hold of your name!" exclaimed Richard, angrily. "There, no more of
that. I tell you I can bear this no longer. It is time we came to an
understanding."

"My good fellow, have you been drinking?" said Mark, with a forced
laugh; "or is it a touch of sunstroke? Here, you had better make for
the nearest stream, have a good draught of water, and then get back to
barracks."

"So that's how Mr Mark Frayne would prescribe for sunstroke!" said
Richard, sarcastically.

"My good fellow, we are not in garrison now, and I like to be kind and
friendly to men in the ranks; but there are bounds. Recollect that you
are addressing your officer, and do not be insolent!"

"Insolent?" cried Richard.

"Yes, sir, insolent!" said Mark, speaking in a low voice. "You have got
hold of my name; but I am Sir Mark Frayne."

"Mark Frayne," cried Richard, fiercely, "and my cousin! Once more I
tell you that this can go on no longer!"

"Are you mad, fellow?" said Mark, speaking beneath his breath.

"Almost, at being face to face with you alone after all I have suffered
at your hands! There, set aside this miserable show of not knowing me!
You recognised me that night of the ball. You knew me directly, though
you tried hard to assume ignorance. Now, then, I don't want to be hard
upon you. I have held back from going to lawyers, for I have felt that
it would be better if we settled the matter ourselves. Do you dare to
tell me that you do not know me?"

Mark gazed at him searchingly, and then his face seemed to light up.

"Why, yes; of course, I know you now--the bandsman Smithson. Of course.
You are the man who helped me out of the burning tent."

"Yes; I saved the life of one who had sent me into this miserable
exile!"

"Of course, I see now. You had a serious illness after, Smithson, and
it affected your head. The doctor told me all about it."

"It was needless," said Richard, gazing full in the eyes which were
half-closed, and which kept on glancing from their corners up and down
the long dim alley where they stood.

"No; I am glad he told me, my lad. That explains a good deal. Now,
take my advice, and get back to barracks. You were