elcome. The heat of the sun, the
excitement of the encounter with the rebels, the strain of the sixty
miles' ride, all combined to weary him both mentally and bodily. The
thought that after months of degrading captivity he was at last free
was scarcely sufficient to raise his flagging spirits. As he saw the
miles of white lines of tents stretching before him, a feeling of
contentment gradually crept over his tired body, but there was none
of the exhilaration he had anticipated; all he longed for was to
fling himself from his horse and rest his weary bones. The watchful
eye of young Osterberg had noted all this, and he anxiously looked
over towards the camp as if expecting to see his friend give in
before he reached it.

George, however, had no such intention; the sufferings he had gone
through had hardened him to trials such as this, and though
enthusiasm had gone from him to a great extent, he was nevertheless
determined to see his duty through to the bitter end.

At last the outposts were reached, the countersign given, and they
passed down the endless lines towards the Commander's quarters.
After what seemed an interminable time, their destination was
reached and the little party dismounted. Several _aides-de-camp_
were about, and to one of these the officer explained his business;
George, too weary to stand, seated himself on the ground and waited
while the _aide_ delivered the officer's message. In a few moments
the man returned and said a few words to the officer and then
returned to the hut. The officer approached Helmar.

"Brace yourself up," he said, in kindly tones, as he noted the weary
expression of the young man's face. "Your work will soon be over,
and you can take all the rest you need. You must come with me and
see the Commander-in-Chief."

George sprang to his feet and followed his guide. He passed through
a number of officers, who eyed his dishevelled appearance with
curiosity, but they all made way for him, and at last he stood in
the presence of the great man. Helmar waited in respectful silence
until the Chief looked up. He found himself in the presence of a
thin, wiry-looking man, with iron-grey hair, and a keen, sharp face,
the aquiline features of which were lined from exposure and care. He
spoke abruptly, and in the usual tone of an English military man.

"You have matters of importance to communicate?"

Helmar fumbled in his pocket, and produced the bundle of papers
Naoum had given him.