stols as chanced to lay handy
which, with your honour's, maketh four shot, two swords and a bagnet."

"Lord, Zeb, we're not going up against a troop!" said the Major,
smiling in the dark, "and why the bayonet?"

"'Tis the one I used for to carry when we were on outpost duty at
night, sir--the one as I had shortened for the purpose, your honour.
You'll mind as there's nought like a short, stiff bagnet when 'tis a
case o' silence. And as for a troop you ha'n't forgot the time as we
routed that company o' Bavarian troopers, you and me, sir, thereby
proving the advantages o' the element o' surprise?"

"Aye, those were desperate times, Zebedee."

"Mighty different to these, sir."

"Aye, truly, truly!" said the Major, gently.

"But if there is to be a little bit o' cut and thrust work to-night,
your honour, 'tis as well to be prepared."

"You think old Betty is to be relied on, Zeb?"

"Aye sir, I do."

"None the less I'm glad my lady Carlyon knoweth nought o' the matter,
'tis best, I think, to keep it from her--at least until we are sure,
moreover 'tis like enough she--" the Major paused to rub his chin
dubiously, "'tis very like she would only----"

"Laugh, your honour?"

"Hum!" said the Major.

"Lord sir, but she's a woundy fine spirit!" exclaimed the Sergeant.

"True, Zeb, very true!" The Major nodded. "Yet I would she were a
thought less venturesome and--ah--contrary at times as 'twere, Zeb----"

"Contrairy, sir? Lord love me, there you have it! Woman is a
contrairy sect, 'tis born in 'em! Look at Mrs. Agatha, contrairiness
ain't no word for same!"

"How so, Zeb?"

"Why, d'ye see sir, when thinking I'd soon be under marching
orders--you then talking o' campaigning again--there's me don't venter
to open my mind to her touching matrimony though her a-giving me
chances for same constant. To-day here's me--you being settled and wi'
no wish for foreign fields--here's me, d'ye see, looking for chances
and occasions to speak wedlock and such constant and her giving me no
chances what-so-ever. And that's woman, sir!"

They rode at a gentle, ambling pace and with no sound to disturb the
brooding night-silence except the creak of their saddles and the
thudding of their horses' hoofs dulled and muffled in the dust of the
road. A hushed and windless night full of the quivering glamour of
stars whose soft effulgence lent to hedge and tree and all things else
a vague and solemn beauty; and riding with his