ssion. Having saluted and handed over his
papers, his quick blue eyes rested on Shafto. He started, saluted, and
said:

"I beg your pardon, Mr. Shafto, sir, but I see you don't know me."

"Well, no, I can't say that I do," replied Shafto, casting his mind
over the last eighteen months.

"Well, of course, sir, I'm entirely different to what ye may remember
in Rangoon."

"What?--you don't mean to say----"

The late _pongye_ nodded with emphasis..

"I'm now Sergeant-Major Ryan, in the second battalion of the old
regiment."

Then suddenly stepping back and lowering his voice, he added, "They
think I'm me brother. Shure, I never had one. And how is yourself,
sir?"

"All right; I'm a machine-gun officer attached to the Blanks."

"And the young lady?"

"She's a Red Cross nurse at Rouen--I saw her three months ago."

"When next you meet will you give her my humble respects and tell her
I've not forgotten her invitation, an' I'm coming to the wedding?"

"And no one will be more welcome; you have our address. I'm told
you've been in some heavy fighting?"

"Well, yes, sir, at Ypres we lost eighteen of our officers; oh, it was
a cruel bad mix-up. Still and all, the Boches were given their tea in
a mug! After our last charge ye'd see thim going every way--like crows
in a storm! Our guns are grand; as for them aeroplanes they do all but
speak; and the Tanks are wonders, God bless them!"

"You have been wounded?"

"Only just a cat's scratch--the German wire is mighty stiff; and
there's six-inch spikes. Well, since we were last together, sir, you
and I have been through a strange time and seen sights as we can't talk
about. One thing is sure, we'll worry through all right."

"Oh, yes, we shall, and give the Boches something to think about."

The sudden opening of a distant door released a roar of voices singing,
"Take me back to Blighty!" a rousing demand which instantly recalled
the sergeant-major to his duty.

"Well, sir," he said, "I must be moving; so I'll wish you good-bye, and
the best of luck."

"The same to you, Ryan. You'll let us have a line to say how you get
on, won't you?"

Shafto held out his hand; Ryan gave it a hard, convulsive squeeze, and
in another moment the stalwart Irishman had saluted and tramped forth.

"An old friend, I see," remarked Tremenheere.

"Yes, I knew him in Burma."

"He is a tip-top non-com., and has the D.C.M. and the French Cross; he
worked miracles when h