and nearer, until, presently, now in moonlight,
now in shadow, there strode a tall, martial figure in all the glory of
braided tunic, and furred dolman, the three chevrons upon his sleeve,
and many shining medals upon his breast,--a stalwart, soldierly figure,
despite the one empty sleeve, who moved with the long, swinging stride
that only the cavalry-man can possess. Being come beneath a certain
latticed window, the Sergeant halted, and, next moment, his glittering
sabre flashed up to the salute; then, with it upon his shoulder, he
wheeled, and began to march up and down, his spurs jingling, his sabre
gleaming, his dolman swinging, his sabre glittering, each time he
wheeled; while Miss Priscilla leaning forward, watched him wide-eyed,
and with hands tight clasped. Then, all at once,--with a little
fluttering sigh she rose.

Thus, the Sergeant as he marched to and fro, was suddenly aware of one
who stood in the full radiance of the moon,--and with one hand
outstretched towards him. And now, as he paused, disbelieving his very
eyes, he saw that in her extended hand she held a great ripe peach.

"Sergeant!" she said, speaking almost in a whisper, "Oh Sergeant--won't
you--take it?"

The heavy sabre thudded down into the grass, and he took a sudden step
towards her. But, even now, he hesitated, until, coming nearer yet, he
could look down into her eyes.

Then he spoke, and his voice was very hoarse, and uneven:

"Miss Priscilla?" he said, "Priscilla?--Oh, Priscilla!" And, with the
word, he had fallen on his knees at her feet, and his strong, solitary
arm was folded close about her.

CHAPTER XIX

_In which Porges Big, and Porges Small discuss the subject of Matrimony_

"What is it, my Porges?"

"Well,--I'm a bit worried, you know."

"Worried?"

"Yes,--'fraid I shall be an old man before my time, Uncle Porges. Adam
says it's worry that ages a man,--an' it killed a cat too!"

"And why do you worry?"

"Oh, it's my Auntie Anthea, a course!--she was crying again last
night--"

"Crying!" Bellew had been lying flat upon his back in the fragrant
shadow of the hay-rick, but now he sat up--very suddenly, so suddenly
that Small Porges started. "Crying!" he repeated, "last night! Are
you sure?"

"Oh yes! You see, she forgot to come an' 'tuck me up' last night, so I
creeped downstairs,--very quietly, you know, to see why. An' I found her
bending over the table, all sobbing, an' crying. At first she tried to
pret