rous thought died out as quickly as it
had arisen, and he marched on with the men slowly, so as to make it
easier for the corporal, till half the slope of the kopje had been
zigzagged down, when he called a halt.

"Sit or lie about in the sunshine for ten minutes, my lads," he said,
and the men gladly obeyed, dropping on the hot stones and tufts of
brush, to begin talking together in a low voice, as they let their eyes
wander over the prospect around, now looking, by contrast with the black
horror through which they had passed, as if no more beautiful scene had
ever met their eyes.

"How are you, Dickenson?" said the captain after they had sat together
for a few minutes, drinking in the sunlight and air.

The young lieutenant started and looked at him strangely for a few
moments before he spoke with a curious catch in his voice.

"Is it all true?" he said.

The captain's lips parted, but no words came; he only bowed his head
slowly, and once more there was silence, till it was broken by
Dickenson.

"Poor old Drew!" he said softly. "Well, I hope when my time comes I
shall die in the same way."

"What!" cried the captain, with a look of horror which brought a grim
smile to the subaltern's quivering lip.

"I did not mean that," he said sadly; "by a bullet, I hope, but doing
what poor old Drew was doing--saving another man's life."

He turned his head on one side, reached out his hand, and picked from
the sun-dried growth close at hand a little dull-red, star-like flower
whose petals were hard and horny, one of the so-called everlasting
tribe, and taking off his helmet, carefully tucked it in the lining.

"Off the kopje in which he died," said Dickenson, in reply to an
inquiring look directed at him by the captain. "For his people at home
if I live to get back. They'll like to have it."

Captain Roby said nothing aloud, but he thought, and his thoughts were
something to this effect: "Who'd ever have thought it of this
light-hearted, chaffing, joking fellow? Why, if they had been brothers
he couldn't have taken it more to heart. Ha! I never liked the poor
lad, and I don't think he liked me. There were times when I believe I
hated him for--for--for--Well, why did I dislike him? Because other
people liked him better than they did me, I suppose. Ah, well! like or
not like, it's all over now."

He sat thinking for a few minutes longer, watching Dickenson furtively
as he now kept turning himself a little t