ble to be idled with in the mimic warfare that
would serve to cover some listless flirtation.

Cigarette, quick to sting, but as quick to repent using her sting,
saw the regret in him; with the rapid, uncalculating liberality of an
utterly unselfish and intensely impulsive nature, she hastened to make
amends by saying what was like gall on her tongue in the utterance:

"Tiens!" she said quickly. "Perhaps she will value them more than
that. I know nothing of the aristocrats--not I! When you were gone, she
championed you against the Black Hawk. She told him that if you had not
been a gentleman before you came into the ranks, she had never seen one.
She spoke well, if you had but heard her."

"She did!"

She saw his glance brighten as it turned on her in a surprised
gratification.

"Well! What is there so wonderful?"

Cigarette asked it with a certain petulance and doggedness; taking a
namesake out of her breast-pocket, biting its end off, and striking
a fusee. A word from this aristocrate was more welcome to him than a
bullet that had saved his life!

Her generosity had gone very far, and, like most generosity, got nothing
for its pains.

He was silent a few moments, tracing lines in the dust with the point
of his scabbard. Cigarette, with the cigar in her mouth, stamped her foot
impatiently.

"Corporal Victor! Are you going to dream there all night? What is to be
done with this dog of an Arab?"

She was angered by him; she was in the mood to make herself seem all
the rougher, fiercer, naughtier, and more callous. She had shot the
man--pouf! What of that? She had shot men before, as all Africa knew.
She would defend a half-fledged bird, a terrified sheep, a worn-out old
cur; but a man! Men were the normal and natural food for pistols and
rifles, she considered. A state of society in which firearms had been
unknown was a thing Cigarette had never heard of, and in which she would
have contumeliously disbelieved if she had been told of it.

Cecil looked up from his musing. He thought what a pity it was this
pretty, graceful French kitten was such a bloodthirsty young panther at
heart.

"I scarcely know what to do," he answered her doubtfully. "Put him
across my saddle, poor wretch, I suppose; the fray must be reported."

"Leave that to me," said Cigarette decidedly, and with a certain haughty
patronage. "I shot him--I will see the thing gets told right. It might
be awkward for you; they are growing so squeam