at that time an art; you could see your face in the
polish of his boots. A smart soldier, and as fine-looking a young
fellow as wore the Queen's uniform in 1854. He had an open, honest
face, handsome withal; clear bright grey eyes, broad forehead, and a
firm mouth and chin.

"Worrying yourself, as usual, for permission to have your throat cut.
Can't you bide your time, Sergeant McKay?"

The answer came from another sergeant of the same regiment, an elder,
sterner man--a veteran evidently, for he wore two medals for Indian
campaigns, and his bronzed, weather-beaten face showed that he had
seen service in many climes. As a soldier he was in no wise inferior
to his comrade: his uniform and appointments were as clean and
correct, but he lacked the extra polish--the military dandyism, so to
speak--of the younger man.

"War is our regular trade. Isn't it natural we should want to be at
it?" said Sergeant McKay.

"You talk like a youngster who doesn't know what it's like," replied
Sergeant Hyde. "I've seen something of campaigning, and it's rough
work at the best, even in India, where soldiers are as well off as
officers here."

"Officers!" said McKay, rather bitterly. "They have the best of it
everywhere."

"Hush! don't be an insubordinate young idiot," interposed his comrade,
hastily. "Here come two of them."

The sergeants sprang hastily to their feet, and, standing strictly to
attention, saluted their superiors in proper military form.

"That's what I hate," went on McKay.

"Then you are no true soldier, and don't know what proper discipline
means. They are as much bound to salute us as we them."

"Yes, but they don't."

"That's their want of manners; so much the worse for them. Besides, I
am quite sure Mr. Wilders didn't mean it; he is far too good an
officer--always civil-spoken, too, and considerate to the men."

"I object to saluting him more than any one else."

"Why, McKay! what's the matter with you? What particular fault have
you to find with Mr. Wilders?"

"I am just as good as he is."

"In your own opinion, perhaps; not in that of this garrison--certainly
not under the Mutiny Act and Articles of War."

"I am just as good. I am his cousin--"

Sergeant McKay stopped suddenly, bit his lip, and flushed very red.

"So you have let the cat out of the bag at last, my young friend,"
said Sergeant Hyde, quietly. "I always thought this--that you were a
gentleman--"

"Superior to my station, in fac