nd then what will
become of us all?'

'You'll take care you don't get mixed up in it, I can see,' said
Tinling, savagely.

'I shall take very good care indeed. Oh, but you must make allowances
for me, my boy. Remember, I've not been in military training for days
and days, as you have.'

'If that's all, I could get you up in the drill in half-an-hour,'
proposed Tinling, eagerly.

'Thanks, but I have a better reason still. Tastes differ so much. You
like to spend your evenings in beating off wild Indians from a stockade.
Now, I prefer a plain, comfortable dinner, and a quiet cigar. I'm not
sure that your way isn't the manlier of the two--but it's not nearly so
much in my line.'

'Why don't you say you're a funk, and have done with it?' Tinling said
rudely.

'My dear young friend,' was the placid answer, 'if Providence has
endowed you with a meed of personal courage beyond that of others, it is
ungraceful to taunt those who are less fortunate. While I am by no means
prepared to admit that I am what you so pleasingly term "a funk," I
readily allow that----'

But Tinling did not stay to hear any more; he turned on his heel with an
anger that had a spice of envy in it. Why, why had not he been content
with an ordinary reputation, instead of one that he must sustain now at
all hazards? He could deceive himself no longer; his foolish vanity,
which had allowed the army to post those rash defiances, had brought
down some real Red Indians upon him, and he was horribly afraid.

As he walked restlessly down the path, a veil seemed drawn across the
brilliant sky, the dahlias and 'red-hot pokers' and gladioli in the beds
burnt with a sinister glow, the smell of the sweet peas and mignonette
seemed oppressive, the bees droning about the lavender patches had a
note of warning in their buzz, he felt chilly in the shade and sick in
the sun.

He saw nothing for it but fighting, but the idea of facing a horde of
howling savages with only two boys younger than himself was too
appalling; he must engage recruits, grown-up ones, and with this
intention he went to the stable-yard, where he found Chinnock, the
coachman, sluicing the carriage-wheels.

'Chinnock,' he began, with an attempt to seem casual and careless,
'we're going to be attacked by Red Indians again to-night.'

Chinnock touched a sandy forelock, as he raised his red grinning face.

'Lor', sir, be you indeed? Well, you young genl'men du have rare goings
on down in t