n an hour of the night mail passing
through Stroud, I shall be able to manage it. I saw everything
packed up before I left, and my man will see that everything,
except the portmanteau with the things I shall want on the voyage,
goes on with the regimental baggage."

A quarter of an hour later Captain Mallett mounted his dog cart and
drove home. The next morning he received a letter from the
Adjutant, saying that he expected the order some time during the
next day.

"We are to embark at Plymouth, and I had a telegram this morning
saying that the transport had arrived and had taken her coal on
board. Of course they will get the news at the War Office today,
and will probably wire at once. I think we shall most likely leave
here by a train early the next morning. I shall, of course,
telegraph as soon as the order comes, but as I know that you have
everything ready, you will be in plenty of time if you come on by
the night mail."

At eleven o'clock a mounted messenger from Stroud brought on the
telegram:

"We entrain at six tomorrow morning. Join immediately."

This was but a formal notification, and he resolved to go on by the
night mail. He spent the day in driving round the estate and saying
goodbye to his tenants. He lunched at the house of one of the
leading farmers, where as a boy he had been always made heartily
welcome. Before mounting his dog cart, he stood for a few minutes
chatting with Martha, his host's pretty daughter.

"You are not looking yourself, Martha," he said. "You must pick up
your roses again before I come back. I shall leave the army then,
and give a big dinner to my tenants, with a dance afterwards, and I
shall open the ball with you, and expect you to look your best.

"Who is this?" he asked, as a young fellow came round the corner of
the house, and on seeing them, turned abruptly, and walked off.

"It is George Lechmere, is it not?"

A flash of colour came into the girl's face.

"Ah, I see," he laughed; "he thought I was flirting with you, and
has gone off jealous. Well, you will have no difficulty in making
your peace with him tomorrow.

"Goodbye, child, I must be going. I have a long round to make."

He jumped into the dog cart and drove away, while the girl went
quietly back into the house.

Her father looked up at the clock.

"Two o'clock," he said; "I must be going. I expected George
Lechmere over here. He was coming to talk with me about his
father's twelve-acre meadow.