blasphemy to "the gentlemen of England who sat at home at ease;" and
even the Foreign Office "irresistibles" could hardly hold their own.
What chance have the honeyed words of the accomplished civilian against
the simple eloquence of the soldier, who speaks with his life in his
hand? Truly there were many conquests then achieved of which the world
knew nothing, for the victor never came back to claim his prize.

When the funeral of the Great Duke went by, it was easy to find fault
with some of the details of that pretentious pageant; but which of us
was cool enough to criticise, on the gray February morning, when the
Guards marched out? There were practiced veterans enough to be found in
their ranks; and each of these perhaps could number some who loved him
dearly; but none in the column won such hearty sympathy as those "trim
subalterns, holding their swords daintily," who went forth to their doom
gayly and gallantly, as if pestilence were not lying in ambush at
fever-stricken Varna, and lines of hungry graves waiting for their prey
in the bleak Chersonese. Surely there were sadder faces at home than any
that lined the road; and the anxious crowd at the station represented
very inadequately the "girls they left behind them."

When the first certain rumors of war prevailed, Royston Keene was
shooting woodcocks in the Hebrides; he hastened back to town without a
moment's delay. We know how quick and unerring, on such occasions, is
the instinct of the Rapacidae. His object was to get on the
active-service list as soon as possible. With his powerful interest and
high reputation, this was not difficult; and he was soon gazetted to a
Light Cavalry regiment. But he did not go out with the first
detachments, and the summer was far advanced when he reached the Crimea.

There was great jubilation at his coming. Many out there knew him
personally, well; and others rejoiced at having the opportunity of
judging for themselves if he really deserved his fame. It soon became
apparent that the Cool Captain was strangely altered. To be sure, the
opportunities for general conviviality were few, for mess-rooms and
ante-rooms were phantoms of the imagination, or only pleasant memories;
still, there was a certain amount of agreeable though select _reunions_,
where the vintages of Bordeaux and Burgundy were sufficiently replaced
by regulation rum. At these Royston appeared rarely; and when he did
show there, was remarkably silent, and apt t