ilence. Arran stood face to face with
Berkley, looked him squarely in the eye where he stood at salute.
Then, as though he had never before set eyes on him, Arran lifted
two fingers to his visor mechanically, turned to Ailsa, uncovered,
and held out both his hands.

"I had a few moments, Ailsa," he said quietly. "I hadn't seen you
for so long. Are you well?"

She was almost too frightened to answer; Berkley stood like a
statue, awaiting dismissal, and later the certain consequences of
guard running.

And, aware of her fright, Arran turned quietly to Berkley:

"Private Ormond," he said, "there is a led-horse in my escort, in
charge of Private Burgess. It is the easier and--safer route to
camp. You may retire."

Berkley's expression was undecipherable as he saluted, shot a
glance at Ailsa, turned sharply, and departed.

"Colonel Arran," she said miserably, "it was all my fault. I am
too ashamed to look at you."

"Let me do what worrying is necessary," he said quietly. "I
am--not unaccustomed to it. . . . I suppose he ran the guard."

She did not answer.

The ghost of a smile--a grim one--altered the Colonel's expression
for a second, then faded. He looked at Ailsa curiously. Then:

"Have you anything to tell me that--perhaps I may be entitled to
know about, Ailsa?"

"No."

"I see. I beg your pardon. If you ever are--perplexed--in
doubt--I shall always----"

"Thank you," she said faintly. . . . "And--I am so sorry----"

"So am I. I'm sorrier than you know--about more matters than you
know, Ailsa--" He softly smote his buckskin-gloved hands together,
gazing at vacancy. Then lifted his head and squared his heavy
shoulders.

"I thought I'd come when I could. The chances are that the army
will move if this weather continues. The cavalry will march out
anyway. So I thought I'd come over for a few moments, Ailsa. . . .
Are you sure you are quite well? And not overdoing it? You
certainly look well; you appear to be in perfect health. . . . I
am very much relieved. . . . And--don't worry. Don't cherish
apprehension about--anybody." He added, more to himself than to
her: "Discipline will be maintained--_must_ be maintained. There
are more ways to do it than by military punishments, I know that
now."

He looked up, held out his hand, retained hers, and patted it
gently.

"Don't worry, child," he said, "don't worry." And went out to the
porch thoughtfully, gazing straight ahead of h