d he order it?"

"When I told him what you looked like after interviewing Mister Daniel
Gedge. And he said, if you was to look like that again I was to give
you this. So I'm giving it to you, sir."

There was no arguing with Marigold in front of a thousand people. I
swallowed the stuff quickly. He put the phial and glass back in his
pocket and resumed his wooden sentry attitude by my chair. I must own
to feeling better for the draught. But, thought I, if the strain of the
situation is so great for me, what must it be for Sir Anthony?

Presently the muffled sounds of outside cheering penetrated the hall.
The band stopped abruptly, to begin again with "See the Conquering Hero
Comes" when the civic procession appeared through the great doors.
There was little Sir Anthony in his robes, grave and imposing, and
beside him Mrs. Boyce, flushed, bright-eyed, and tearful. Then came
Lady Fenimore with Boyce, black-spectacled, soldierly, bull-necked, his
little bronze cross conspicuous among the medals on his breast, his
elbow gripped by a weatherbeaten young soldier, one of his captains, as
I learned afterwards, home on leave, who had claimed the privilege of
guiding his blind footsteps. And behind came the Aldermen and the
Councillors, and the General and his staff, and the Lord Lieutenant and
Lady Laleham and the other members of the Reception Committee. The
cheering drowned the strains of the "Conquering Hero." Places were
taken on the platform. To the right of the Mayor sat Boyce, to the left
his mother. On the table in front were set scrolls and caskets. You
see, we had arranged that Mrs. Boyce should have an address and a
casket all to herself. The gallery soon was picturesquely filled with
the nurses, and the fire-brigade, bright-helmeted, was massed in the
doorway.

God gave the steel-hearted little man strength to go through the
ordeal. He delivered his carefully prepared oration in a voice that
never faltered. The passages referring to Boyce's blindness he spoke
with an accent of amazing sincerity. When he had ended the responsive
audience applauded tumultuously. From my seat by the edge of the
platform I watched Betty. Two red spots burned in her cheeks. The
addresses were read, the caskets presented. Boyce remained standing,
about to respond. He still held the casket in both hands. His FIDUS
ACHATES, guessing his difficulty, sprang up, took it from him, and laid
it on the table. Boyce turned to him with his charmin