the sergeant earnestly. "You've done
quite enough for one day."

"Confound it, man! don't dictate to me," cried Dickenson testily.

"Certainly not, sir. Beg your pardon, sir; but we've got a heavy job on
to-night, and it's my duty to warn you as an old soldier."

"What do you mean?"

"I mean, sir, that I've had twenty years' experience, and you've had
two, sir. A man can only do so much; when he has done that and tries to
do more, he shuts up all at once. I don't want you to shut up, sir,
to-night. I want you to lead us to where we can find Mr Lennox."

"Of course, sergeant. I know you always mean well. Don't take any
notice of my snappish way."

"Not a bit, sir," said the man, smiling. "It's only a sign that, though
you don't know it, you're just ready to shut up."

"But, hang it all, man!" said the young officer, with a return of his
irritable manner, "I only want to just see my brother officer for a few
minutes."

"Yes, sir, I know," said the sergeant stubbornly; "but you're better
away. He's right off his head, and abusing everybody. If you go he'll
say things to you that will upset you more than three hours' sleep will
wipe out."

"Oh, I know what you mean now--what he said before--about my being a
coward and leaving him in the lurch."

"Something of that sort, sir," replied the sergeant.

"Poor fellow! Well, perhaps it would be as well, for very little seems
to put me out. It was the shock of the explosion, I expect. There,
sergeant, I'll go and lie down."

"I'll bring you a bit of something to eat, sir, when I come. There's
plenty now."

"Ah, to be sure; do," said the young man. "But I could touch nothing
yet. Remember: as soon as it is quite dark."

"Yes, sir; as soon as it is quite dark."

Dickenson strode away, and the sergeant uttered a grunt of satisfaction.

"Poor fellow!" he muttered. "It would have made him turn upon the
captain. Nobody likes to be called a coward even by a crank. It would
have regularly upset him for the work. Now then, I'll just give those
two fellows the word, and then pick out the ponies. Next I'll lie down
till the roast's ready. We'll all three have a good square meal, and
sleep again till it's time to call Mr Dickenson and give him his corn.
After that, good-luck to us! We must bring that poor young fellow in,
alive or dead, and I'm afraid it's that last."

Meanwhile Dickenson had sought his quarters, slipped off his
accoutrements and bl