cord as an officer?"

"His record is far above being injured."

"Is any officer's? From things I've heard, I'm afraid not! Once I told
you that you were one of those men who think too little of themselves
and sacrifice themselves for others. I only felt it then. I know it now.
I'm so much better acquainted with you, my Soldier! You promised, if you
answered my questions, to answer them truly. Would you explain in a
court-martial that my father took you off duty, and told you, whatever
happened, to look after me?"

"I have already explained in a letter to the deputy commanding officer.
Probably the colonel has explained, too--more or less, as much as
necessary."

"I don't believe father would have thought it necessary to say much
about me. He's old fashioned in his ideas of women and girls. And, you
see, he had no reason to dream that anything could go wrong. He supposed
that you would arrive on time. How much did you explain in your
letter?"

"I said I had been unavoidably delayed in finishing my official errand."

"What would you say if you were court-martialled for losing Manoeel and
being five days late yourself?"

"I don't know. It would depend on the questions."

"Would you answer in any way that might do harm to my father, or would
you sacrifice yourself again for him and for me?"

"It wouldn't be a sacrifice."

"Do you think you could save yourself from prison?"

"Perhaps not, but I shouldn't care."

"_I'd_ care. It would break my happiness. Father couldn't tell you, as I
do, to join us, but I know enough about his interest in you to be sure
that in his heart he would wish it, rather than come back to
Sidi-bel-Abbes and find you in the _Bat d'Aff_. I've heard all about
that, you see."

Max was silent for a moment, thinking, and Sanda watched his face in the
growing light. It was haggard and set for a face so young, but there was
still in the eyes, which stared unseeingly across the desert, the warm,
generous light that had once convinced her of the man's heroic capacity
for self-sacrifice. "He is one who always gives," she thought. And
something within her said that Stanton was not of those. He was one born
not to give, but to take. Yet how glad every one must be, as she was, to
give to him!

Max was greatly surprised and deeply touched by Sanda's care for him at
such a time. And he was almost bewildered by the strange answer that
had come to his self-questioning. He had felt a passionate reluct