out it?"

The Sergeant turned and stared at the wall, shook his head and rubbed
his chin:

"Question is, how did you get over, my lady?"

"'Tis no matter! Go--go fetch the ladder, I must not be seen here--go
this instant!" The Sergeant went.

Once out of eyeshot my lady sprang up, sped across the orchard, hurled
the Ramillie coat over the wall into her own garden and was back in the
arbour a full half-minute before the Sergeant re-appeared, ladder on
shoulder.

"You dear Sergeant Zeb!" she exclaimed, rising and crossing the orchard
beside him. "The bravest soldiers and strongest men are always the
kindest and gentlest to women, aren't they?"

"Are they, mam?" said the Sergeant flushing a little as he planted the
ladder where she directed.

"To be sure they are," she sighed, gathering up her petticoats, "see
how hard you kicked that hateful Jennings----"

"Shall I hold the ladder, my lady?" he enquired, flushing deeper.

"Thank you--no!" she answered and set a slender foot upon the lowest
rung. "Sergeant Zebedee!"

"My lady?"

"Right about face!" The Sergeant turned automaton-like and stood so
until a laughing voice cried, "Sergeant Zebedee--as you were!" And
swinging round he beheld her smiling down at him from her own side of
the wall. "Thank you, dear Sergeant Zeb, thank you!" she said, and
nodding, vanished from sight.

The Sergeant, being orderly in all things, proceeded to set back the
ladder in the tool-house, to dust his coat and re-settle his wig, then
crossed to the arbour and stood there for a full minute staring at the
empty bench.

"Zounds!" he exclaimed at last, and wheeling, marched very thoughtfully
into the house.

"Eh--not there--not there, Zeb?" exclaimed the Major, laying down his
cards and turning to glance at the Sergeant's expressionless face.

"Your honour, it are--not!"

"But--God bless my soul--it must be!"

"Why then sir, if 'tis it aren't apparent to human observation!"

"But I distinctly remember taking it off there!"

"Why then sir, it hath gone and vanished itself away!"

"Pish!" exclaimed the Major rising. "I'll fetch it myself."

"O rot me, Jack!" cried the Colonel, "here's a curst rampageous
business over an old rag. 'Tis time 'twas lost----"

"Or burned, nunky!" added the Viscount.

"So let be, Jack--Sergeant Zeb shall bring you another!"

But the Major was determined, and presently sallied forth with Sir
Benjamin, the Viscount, Colonel Cleeve an