o'd
been a bit foolish at home. He is here in the Australian contingent;
in fact, he's coming to see me to-night. Ah! here he is," she
gleefully exclaimed, as a tall, well-built soldier, with a monocle,
casually stepped on to the veranda. "Come and be introduced?"

"What! To a Tommy," said the surprised subaltern.

"Yes--and a _gentleman_," Sybil emphasised.

"Hallo, dear boy!"

"Well, Sybil, what a surprise when I got your wire."

"Let me introduce Mr. Jones of the Yeomanry--Private Dufair."

Claud solemnly saluted. There was a twinkle in his eye as the
surprised subaltern started back, exclaiming, "What--Claud Dufair? You
were at Rugby with me!"

"The same, sir," said Claud, standing rigidly to attention, full of
suppressed mirth.

"Well, shake, old boy! How the devil are you? And, Tommy or no Tommy,
you must have a bottle of fizz with me to-morrow night. Now, I'm not
going to spoil sport. I've had an awful wigging from Miss Graham."

"My fiancee," interjected Claud.

"Lucky dog--put me down as your next-of-kin when you make your will.
Good night."

"Good night," said the happy couple, passing on to the shade of the
palms, where they renewed that love which is mightier than the sword.

CHAPTER VI

THE WISDOM OF "K"

It was a sweltering heat--a day to drink squash and be on a cool
veranda. But war has no respect for feelings or conditions, so the
Australian, New Zealander, and Lancashire men had to hoof it across the
sun-baked desert. The troops were divided into three columns, each
striking for a different point. They were bent on a combined scheme in
which the "General Idea," "Special Idea," and other vague military
terms figured large.

"Ain't the heat hellish? My nose is feeling like a banana, and my
shirt's glued to my back! Wish I had joined the Camel Corps or Donkey
Brigade. Gravel crushing's no good to me," growled Bill, changing his
rifle for the hundredth time.

"We're suffering for the sins of our predecessors," remarked Claud,
shifting his eyeglass to look at the Pyramids.

"How's that?"

"In South Africa the Australians went any old way. They fought well,
but, as Roberts said, they lacked discipline. That's why you and I are
here. They're going to grind the insubordination out of us. They'll
march us and sweat us to death. 'Trouble maketh a strong man, Pain
maketh a true man,' so some old wag has said."

"Wish ould Kitchener had me thirst, an' this ould