ok a thing of mighty bulges among which a rifle was poked away. It
wore a kilt covered by a khaki apron. It also had a dirty and unshaven
face. A muddy warrior fresh from the trenches, of course. But what was
he doing here?

"I see, sir, you don't recognise me," he said with a smile.

"Good Lord!" I cried, with a start, "it's Randall."

"Yes, sir. May I come in?"

"Come in? What infernal nonsense are you talking?" I held out my hand,
and, after greeting him, made him sit down.

"Now," said I, "what the deuce are you doing in that kit?"

"That's what I've been asking myself for the last ten months. Anyhow I
shan't wear it much longer."

"How's that?"

"Commission, sir," he answered.

"Oh!" said I.

His entrance had been so abrupt and unexpected that I hardly knew as
yet what to make of him. Speculation as to his doings had led me to
imagine him engaged in some elegant fancy occupation on the fringe of
the army, if indeed he were serving his country so creditably. I found
it hard to reconcile my conception of Master Randall Holmes with this
businesslike Tommy who called me "Sir" every minute.

"I'll tell you about it, sir, if you're interested. But first--how is
my mother?"

"Your mother? You haven't seen her yet?"

Here, at least, was a bit of the old casual Randall. He shook his head.

"I've only just this minute arrived. Left the trenches yesterday.
Walked from the station. Not a soul recognised me. I thought I had
better come here first and report, just as I was, and not wait until I
had washed and shaved and put on Christian clothes again. He looked at
me and grinned. "Seeing is believing."

"Your mother is quite well," said I. "Haven't you given her any warning
of your arrival?"

"Oh, no!" he answered. "I didn't want any brass bands. Besides, as I
say, I wanted to see you first. Then to look in at the hospital. I
suppose Phyllis Gedge is still at the hospital?"

"She is. But I think, my dear chap, your mother has the first call on
you."

"She wouldn't enjoy my present abominable appearance as much as
Phyllis," he replied, coolly. "You see, Phyllis is responsible for it.
I told you she refused to marry me, didn't I, sir? After that, she
called me a coward. I had to show her that I wasn't one. It was an
awful nuisance, I admit, for I had intended to do something quite
different. Oh! not Gedging or anything of that sort--but--" he dived
beneath his sheepskin and brought out a tattered letter cas