ing his hand kindly on
Rupert's shoulder. "Where was the letter written?"

"At Korti."

"Well, Clinton, don't be too sanguine. You know how terribly the Heavies
suffered at Abu Klea. Don't make up your mind too warmly to see your
brother; he may be among the wounded we left behind at Abu Klea; he
may--" and he stopped.

"I won't think it," Rupert said; "it would be too hard, after our
searching for him for all these years, to find out that but four or five
days since he was in camp with us, and to learn it only too late. I
won't think it."

"I hope to God that it is not so, Clinton, only I thought it best to
prepare you for what may be possible. Which troop did he belong to?"

"The Dragoon troop."

Easton was silent, for it was upon this troop that the heaviest loss had
fallen.

"Well," Rupert went on, "let us go down and learn the best or the
worst."

They walked down the slope to the new fort by the river, and finding out
where the Heavies were bivouacked soon discovered the Dragoons.

"You go and ask, Easton," Rupert said nervously; "I dare not."

Easton went on alone and presently accosted a sergeant.

"Sergeant, can you tell me whether the trumpeter of your troop was
wounded at Abu Klea? Is he here now?"

"He was wounded at Abu Klea, sir, though not seriously; but he is not
here now, he was one of those missing on the night march, he and
Sergeant Bowen. I hear the sergeant was found and brought in this
morning very bad, but I have heard nothing of Smith; but I expect that
one of the camels brought in this afternoon was his; in fact I know it
was, for it has got Smith's number on the saddle. It is likely that they
would be together, for the sergeant had taken a great fancy to the lad.
We all liked him. He joined us at Cairo from the Hussars, as our own
trumpeter was taken ill; he was a general favourite, but Sergeant Bowen
took to him specially."

"Thank you, sergeant;" and Easton turned and walked slowly back to where
Rupert was awaiting him.

"You have bad news, Easton," Rupert said huskily. "I could see it as you
stood talking to that man."

"Yes, I have bad news," Easton said, "but hardly the worst, Clinton."

"He is badly wounded then," Rupert groaned.

"I am afraid it is worse than that, Clinton; he is missing. It was he
who was the rider of the second camel that we found in the grove this
morning. He and the sergeant were both missing on the night march, and
evidently found their way do