, riding home together from
kit inspection, on a morning of early September, entertained the
dimmest idea of a break with the family tradition. Lance, at
seven-and-twenty--spare and soldierly, alive to the finger-tips--was his
father in replica, even to the V.C. after his name, which he had
'snaffled out of the War,' together with a Croix de Guerre and a
brevet-Majority. Though Cavalry had been at a discount in France,
Mesopotamia and Palestine had given the Regiment its chance--with fever
and dysentery and all the plagues of Egypt thrown in to keep things
going.

It was in the process of filling up his woeful gaps that Colonel Desmond
had applied for Roy Sinclair, and so fulfilled the desire of his
brother's heart: also, incidentally, Roy's craving to serve with Indian
Cavalry. To that end, his knowledge of the language, his horsemanship,
his daring and resource in scout work, had stood him in good stead.
Paul--who scarcely knew him at the time--very soon discovered that he
had secured an asset for the Regiment--the great Fetish, that claimed
his paramount allegiance, and began to look like claiming it for life.

"He's just John over again," Lady Desmond would say, referring to a
brother who had served the great Fetish from subaltern to Colonel and
left his name on a cross in Kohat cemetery.

Certainly, in form and feature, Paul was very much a Meredith:--the
coppery tone of his hair, the straight nose and steadfast grey-blue
eyes, the height and breadth and suggestion of power in reserve. It was
one of the most serious problems of his life to keep his big frame under
weight for polo, without impairing his immense capacity for work. Apart
from this important detail, he was singularly unaware of his striking
personal appearance, except when others chaffed him about his look of
Lord Kitchener, and were usually snubbed for their pains; though, at
heart, he was inordinately proud of the fact. He had only one quarrel
with the hero of his boyhood;--the decree that officially extinguished
the Frontier Force; though the spirit of it survives, and will survive,
for decades to come. Like his brother, he had 'snaffled' a few
decorations out of the War: but to be in Command of the Regiment, with
Lance in charge of his pet squadron, was better than all.

The strong bond of affection between these two--first and last of a
family of six--was enhanced by their very unlikeness. Lance had the elan
of a torrent; Paul the stillness an