'tis a quaint name and suits you. If you have any children----"

"Chil----!" The Sergeant gasped.

"They should be called James and John, of course! So the poor Major
passed a sleepless night, did he, Sergeant?"

"O!" said the Sergeant, staring, "Did he, mam?"

"Well, hasn't he?"

"Not as I know of, my lady."

"And when will he come home?"

"Home?" repeated the Sergeant, scratching his wig, "Why, mam, he has, I
mean he hasn't, him not having been out, d'ye see."

"He must be a great trial and worry to live with, Sergeant?"

"No, my lady, no--except when he don't take his rations reg'lar--food
and drink, d'ye see."

"Ah, doth his appetite languish of late?"

"Never was better, mam! He do seem to grow younger and brisker every
day."

"Indeed, 'tis pity he's so wild!"

"Wild, mam? The Major----?"

"So gay, so bold and audacious." The Sergeant could only stare. "His
wife will lead a sorry life I fear, poor soul!"

The Sergeant fell back a step opening eyes and mouth together:

"Zooks!" he muttered, "axing your ladyship's pardon but--does your
ladyship mean--Zounds! Axing your pardon again, my lady, but--wife!
Does your ladyship mean to say----? Is't true, madam?"

"So 'tis said!" nodded her unblushing ladyship.

"But who, my lady, and--when?"

"Nay, he's very secret."

"Pro-digious!" exclaimed the Sergeant, his eyes shining. "His honour
was ever a great hand at surprises--ambuscades d'ye see,
madam--ambushments, my lady, sudden onfalls and the like, and for
leading a forlorn hope there was none to compare."

"You mean he has fought in a battle, Sergeant?"

"A battle, mam!" The Sergeant sighed and shook reproachful head.
"Twenty and three pitched battles, my lady and twelve sieges, not to
mention sorties, outpost skirmishes and the like! 'Fighting d'Arcy' he
was called, madam! Sixteen wounds, my lady, seven of 'em bullet and
the rest steel----"

"Heavens!" exclaimed my lady, "I marvel there is any of him left!"

"What is left, my lady, is all man! There never was such a man! There
never will be."

"'Fighting d'Arcy'!" she repeated. "It sounds so unlike--and looks
quite impossible--see yonder!" And she turned towards where, afar off,
the object of their talk limped towards them his head bent studiously
above an open book from which he raised his eyes, ever and anon, as if
weighing some abstruse passage; thus he presently espied my lady and,
shutting the book, thrust it into hi