ed a shabby man, next in the
line behind Miles.

The grave sergeant paid no more regard to this remark than if it had
been the squeak of a mouse.

"Now, then, sir, your carridge stops the way. 'Eave a'ead. Shall I
'elp you?" said the shabby man.

Thus admonished, Miles, scarce knowing what he said, repeated the
sergeant's words--

"Portsmouth--third--two--single."

"Vy, you ain't agoin' to pay for _me_, are you?" exclaimed the shabby
man in smiling surprise.

"Oh! beg pardon. I mean _one_," said Miles to the clerk, quickly.

The clerk retracted the second ticket with stolid indifference, and
Miles, hastening to the platform, sat down on a seat, deeply and
uncomfortably impressed with the fact that he possessed little or no
money! This unsatisfactory state of things had suddenly burst upon him
while in the act of paying for his ticket. He now made a careful
examination of his purse, and found its contents to be exactly seven
shillings and sixpence, besides a few coppers in his trousers-pocket.

Again indecision assailed him. Should he return? It was not too late.
"Yes," said Conscience, with emphasis. "No," said Shame. False pride
echoed the word, and Self-will re-echoed it. Still our hero hesitated,
and there is no saying what the upshot might have been if the bell had
not rung at the moment, and, "Now, then, take your seats!" put an end to
the controversy.

Another minute, and Miles Milton was seated opposite the two soldiers,
rushing towards our great southern seaport at the rate of forty miles an
hour.

CHAPTER TWO.

SHOWS SOME OF THE CONSEQUENCES OF THE FALSE STEP, AND INTRODUCES THE
READER TO PECULIAR COMPANY.

Our hero soon discovered that the sergeant was an old campaigner, having
been out in Egypt at the beginning of the war, and fought at the famous
battle of Tel-el-Kebir.

In his grave and undemonstrative way and quiet voice, this man related
some of his experiences, so as not only to gain the attention of his
companion in arms, but to fascinate all who chanced to be within earshot
of him--not the least interested among whom, of course, was our friend
Miles.

As the sergeant continued to expatiate on those incidents of the war
which had come under his own observation, three points impressed
themselves on our hero: first, that the sergeant was evidently a man of
serious, if not religious, spirit; second, that while he gave all due
credit to his comrades for their bravery in act