llies with Irish fluency and
barrack-room point.

'Take note,' said he, when he had won his holiday, and appeared
dressed in his roughest clothes with the only other regimental
fowling-piece in his hand. 'Take note, Jock, an' you, Orth'ris, I am
goin' in the face av my own will--all for to please you. I misdoubt
anythin' will come av permiscuous huntin' afther peacockses in a
desolit lan'; an' I know that I will lie down an' die wid thirrrst. Me
catch peacockses for you, ye lazy scutts--an' be sacrificed by the
peasanthry--ugh!'

He waved a huge paw and went away.

At twilight, long before the appointed hour, he returned empty-handed,
much begrimed with dirt.

'Peacockses?' queried Ortheris from the safe rest of a barrack-room
table whereon he was smoking cross-legged, Learoyd fast asleep on a
bench.

'Jock,' said Mulvaney without answering, as he stirred up the sleeper.
'Jock, can ye fight? Will ye fight?'

Very slowly the meaning of the words communicated itself to the
half-roused man. He understood--and again--what might these things
mean? Mulvaney was shaking him savagely. Meantime the men in the room
howled with delight. There was war in the confederacy at last--war and
the breaking of bonds.

Barrack-room etiquette is stringent. On the direct challenge must
follow the direct reply. This is more binding than the ties of tried
friendship. Once again Mulvaney repeated the question. Learoyd
answered by the only means in his power, and so swiftly that the
Irishman had barely time to avoid the blow. The laughter around
increased. Learoyd looked bewilderedly at his friend--himself as
greatly bewildered. Ortheris dropped from the table because his world
was falling.

'Come outside,' said Mulvaney, and as the occupants of the
barrack-room prepared joyously to follow, he turned and said
furiously, 'There will be no fight this night--onless any wan av you
is wishful to assist. The man that does, follows on.'

No man moved. The three passed out into the moonlight, Learoyd
fumbling with the buttons of his coat. The parade-ground was deserted
except for the scurrying jackals. Mulvaney's impetuous rush carried
his companions far into the open ere Learoyd attempted to turn round
and continue the discussion.

'Be still now. 'Twas my fault for beginnin' things in the middle av an
end, Jock. I should ha' comminst wid an explanation; but Jock, dear,
on your sowl are ye fit, think you, for the finest fight that iver
wa