oking."

"Joking, my dear boy? Nothing of the kind. I'm going to take you to
the doctor; he'll nip your complaint in the bud."

"Absurd," I cried. "Come with me to the Colonel."

"What! To deliver the message?"

"Of course."

"No, Val, my boy. I like you too well to let you go to the old man. Do
you know what he'd do?"

"Send me back to our friend there with a message as sharp as a sword.
Of course I know he will not send him across to the Boers."

"My dear Val," said Denham solemnly, "let me inform your ignorance
exactly what would happen. I know the chief from old experience. He'll
sit back and listen to you with one of those pleasant smiles he puts on
when he's working himself up into a rage. He'll completely disarm you--
as he did me once--and all the time, as he hears you patiently to the
end, he'll think nothing about my lord Paddy there, but associate you,
my poor boy, with what he will consider about the most outrageous piece
of impudence he ever had addressed to him. Then suddenly he'll spring
up and say--No, I will not spoil the purity of the atmosphere this
beautiful evening by repeating a favourite expletive of his--he'll say
something you will not at all like, and then almost kick you out of his
quarters."

"I don't believe it," I said.

"That's giving me the lie, Val, my boy. He'll be in such a rage that
he'll forget himself; for, though he's a splendid soldier, and as brave
a man as ever crossed a charger, he is one of the--"

"What, Mr Denham?" said the gentleman of whom he spoke, suddenly
standing before us. "Pray speak out; I like to hear what my officers
think of me."

CHAPTER THIRTY TWO.

DENHAM SHIVERS.

I wanted to dash off--not from fear, but to indulge in a hearty roar of
laughter--for Denham's countenance at that moment wore the drollest
expression I have ever seen upon the face of man.

"I--I--I beg your pardon, Colonel," he stammered at last.

"For backbiting me, sir," said the Colonel shortly. "I could not help
hearing your last sentence, for you raised your voice and forced it upon
me. Now, if you please, I am one of the--what?"

"I was--I was only telling Moray here, sir, that you were--er--er--very
passionate, and that if--"

"Passionate, am I?"

"Yes, sir," stammered Denham. "No, no; I beg your pardon, sir. I
didn't mean to say that."

"I presume you are saying what you consider to be the truth, Mr
Denham," said the Colonel coldly. "Now, pray