and we are early people, here. You will have
to be up by five, so I think that it is time you were off to bed. We
shall scarcely be up when you start; but you will find a spirit lamp
on the table, with coffee--which only requires heating--together with
some bread and butter. You will have some miles to march before you
breakfast.

"And now, you must all promise me that, if you come to this place
again, you will come straight up here, and look upon it as your
home. If you get ill or wounded--which I hope will not happen--you
will, of course, go home; but something may occur not sufficiently
important for you to leave the corps, but which could be set
straight by a few days' nursing, and rest. In that case, you will
come to us, will you not?"

The boys all gratefully promised to avail themselves of the
invitation, in case of need; and then said good night and goodbye
to their host, and went off to the room prepared for them. In the
morning they were up in good time, dressed as quietly as they
could--so as not to disturb their host--and went downstairs; lit
the spirit lamp under a glass bowl full of coffee and milk and, in
ten minutes, were on their way towards the town.

"We shall be lucky if we are often as comfortable as that," Percy
said, looking back; and there was a general assent.

"There goes the bugle," Louis Duburg said; "we have a quarter of an
hour, yet.

"What pretty girls those were!"

Louis was nearly seventeen and, at seventeen, a French lad
considers himself a competent judge as to the appearance and
manners of young ladies.

"Were they?" Percy said carelessly, with the indifference of an
English boy of his age as to girls. "I did not notice it. I don't
care for girls; they are always thinking about their dress, and one
is afraid of touching them, in case you should spoil something.
There is nothing jolly about them."

The others laughed.

"I am sure Milly is jolly enough," Philippe Duburg said.

"Yes, Milly is jolly," Percy answered. "You see, she has been with
us boys, and she can play, and doesn't screech if you touch her, or
mind a bit if she tears her frock. So are our cousins in
England--some of them. Yes, there are some jolly girls, of course;
still, after all, what's the good of them, taking them altogether?
They are very nice in their way--quiet and well behaved, and so
on--but they are better indoors than out."

The clock was just striking half-past five, as the boys reached the