hat you'd be back presently."

"Then go at once, young man," said the adjutant, laying a mighty hand on
the junior's square shoulder. "Stand not upon the order of your going,
but git! Never you mind about the colonel. He won't be _here_ until after
he's been _there_, and he's in for a rasping over this morning's
inspection. Just look at the report. Sergeant-major, send me Colonel
Colt's report!" he called aloud, tossing his head back as he spoke, "Come
in, Parson; come out of the wet." And, eager enough to read a famous
inspector's criticisms of the appearance of the regiment, the officer
addressed as Parson shoved briskly into the tent.

The young soldier who had opened the tent flap a few minutes before came
forward with a folded paper which, in silence, he handed the adjutant and
turned back to his desk. Mr. Gordon took the paper, but his eyes followed
the soldier. Then he called, somewhat sharply:

"Morton!"

The young fellow stopped at the dividing crack between the two tent
floors, and slowly faced the three officers. He was slender, well built,
erect. His uniform fitted him trimly, and was worn with easy grace, his
hands and feet were small and slender, his eyes and hair dark and fine,
his features delicate and clear cut, his complexion a trifle blistered
and beaten by the harsh winds that whistled in every day from the sea,
and, as he turned, all three officers were struck by its extreme pallor.

"You're sick again, Morton," said the adjutant somewhat sternly. "I
thought I told you to see Dr. Heffernan. Have you done so?"

"I--wasn't sick enough," faltered the young soldier. "I was all right a
minute or two--or rather this morning, sir. It'll be over presently.
Perhaps it was the smell of the oil that did it--the stove is close to my
desk."

But Gordon continued to look at him doubtfully.

"Move your desk across the tent for the present, anyhow," said he, "and
I'll speak to the doctor myself. With all this newspaper hullabaloo about
our neglect of the sick," continued he, turning to his friends, "if a man
changes color at sight of a smash-up he must be turned over to the Red
Cross at once. What is it, orderly?" he finished suddenly, as the tent
flaps parted and a soldier in complete uniform, girt with his belt of
glistening cartridges, stood at salute, some visiting cards in his gloved
hand.

"Lieutenant Gray here, sir?" was the comprehensive answer. Then, catching
sight of the young officer who steppe