e number of men who
paused in their work to take notice of him. As a matter of fact, he
was scarcely known to any one, except the officers with whom he came
into contact in his work, and yet he was greeted like an old friend
by nearly every one he came across. It was some time before he began
to realize that, in some way, the events of yesterday had brought
this about.

Reaching the cook-house, he plunged into the subject of breakfast.
Had the cook anything to eat?

"Anything to eat?" replied that worthy. "Well, rather. Always got
something for you, Mr. Helmar!" his greasy face smiling with a look
of pride at the man who had so distinguished himself on the hill
yesterday.

"I'm beastly hungry, and am afraid I'm a bit late," said George
apologetically. "But I was so tired that I overslept myself."

"Late? Not a bit of it--leastways, not for you. Here y'are, I been
a-savin' this for you," and the benevolent-looking "slushy" dived
into an oven and produced a piece of steak and some onions on a tin
plate.

George accepted this mark of extreme favour with the greatest
pleasure. The steak smelt savoury, although, by the looks of it, he
thought it would have done credit to a shoemaker's shop; but he fell
to with such a healthy appetite that the cook was still further
pleased.

"'Ere, 'av a drop o' my kauffee," he said, holding out a pannikin of
the steaming liquid; "there's a goodish 'stick' in it," he added,
with a knowing wink.

George accepted it without demur. He did not care for brandy, but he
felt that he was under an obligation to the man and would not hurt
his feelings by refusing what the soldiers considered a priceless
treasure.

While George was discussing his solid breakfast the cook looked on,
chattering away about the doings of yesterday, avoiding with
soldier-like tact Helmar's share in the proceedings; but just as the
meal was over and he was about to depart, he said--

"S'pose you won't be 'avin' many more meals along o' us?"

"What do you mean?" asked George, in surprise.

The man smiled and looked knowing.

"Orficers' mess grub better'n we do, yer know," he replied, winking
with the whole side of his face.

"Yes, I dare say they do, but that's got nothing to do with it,"
said George.

"Ho, 'asn't it! They tells me as you are a-goin' to be made a
horsifer."

Our hero laughed, and the man looked offended.

"No, no, that's wrong. You know, I'm not English, they can't do
that--besides, t