came equipped, stooped
to check off the items. Suddenly he stopped, frowned, and finally placed
his finger under one of the lines of Tremayne's schedule, carefully
studying his own note for a moment.

"Ha!" he said quietly at last. "What's this?" And he read: "'Note from
Lord Liverpool of reinforcements to be embarked for Lisbon in June or
July.'" He looked at the adjutant and the adjutant's secretary. "That
would appear to be the most important document of all--indeed the
only document of any vital importance. And it was not included in the
dispatch as it reached Lord Wellington."

The three looked gravely at one another in silence.

"Have you a copy of the note, sir?" inquired the aide-de-camp.

"Not a copy--but a summary of its contents, the figures it contained,
are pencilled there on the margin," Tremayne answered.

"Allow me, sir," said Stanhope, and taking up a quill from the
adjutant's table he rapidly copied the figures. "Lord Wellington must
have this memorandum as soon as possible. The rest, Sir Terence, is
of course a matter for yourself. You will know what to do. Meanwhile I
shall report to his lordship what has occurred. I had best set out at
once."

"If you will rest for an hour, and give my wife the pleasure of your
company at luncheon, I shall have a letter ready for Lord Wellington,"
replied Sir Terence. "Perhaps you'll see to it, Tremayne," he added,
without waiting for Captain Stanhope's answer to an invitation which
amounted to a command.

Thus Stanhope was led away, and Sir Terence, all other matters forgotten
for the moment, sat down to write his letter.

Later in the day, after Captain Stanhope had taken his departure, the
duty fell to Tremayne of framing the general order and seeing to the
dispatch of a copy to each division.

"I wonder," he said to Sir Terence, "who will be the first to break it?"

"Why, the fool who's most anxious to be broke himself," answered Sir
Terence.

There appeared to be reservations about it in Tremayne's mind.

"It's a devilish stringent regulation," he criticised.

"But very salutary and very necessary."

"Oh, quite." Tremayne's agreement was unhesitating. "But I shouldn't
care to feel the restraint of it, and I thank heaven I have no enemy
thirsting for my blood."

Sir Terence's brow darkened. His face was turned away from his
secretary. "How can a man be confident of that?" he wondered.

"Oh, a clean conscience, I suppose," laughed Tremayne, a