ate success. I do not doubt it. I never shall. You must
not. It will all come right in the end."

"Regiment?" whispered Berkley.

"The regiment is in better shape, Berkley. Our remounts have
arrived; our wounded are under shelter, and comfortable. We need
rest, and we're getting it here at Azalea, although they shell us
every day. We ought to be in good trim in a couple of weeks.
You'll be in the saddle long before that. Your squadron has become
very proud of you; all the men in the regiment have inquired about
you. Private Burgess spends his time off duty under the oak trees
out yonder watching your window like a dog. . . . I--ah--may say
to you, Berkley, that you--ah--have become a credit to the
regiment. Personally--and as your commanding officer--I wish you
to understand that I am gratified by your conduct. I have said so
in my official reports."

Berkley's sunken eyes had reverted to the man beside him. After a
moment his lips moved again in soundless inquiry.

Colonel Arran replied: "The Zouaves were very badly cut up; Major
Lent was wounded by a sabre cut. He is nearly well now. Colonel
Craig and his son were not hurt. The Zouaves are in cantonment
about a mile to the rear. Both Colonel Craig and his son have been
here to see you--" he hesitated, rose, stood a moment undecided.

"Mrs. Craig--the wife of Colonel Craig--has been here. Her
plantation, Paigecourt, is in this vicinity I believe. She has
requested the medical authorities to send you to her house for your
convalescence. Do you wish to go?"

The hollow-eyed, heavily bandaged face looked up at him from the
straw; and Colonel Arran looked down at it, lips aquiver.

"Berkley--if you go there, I shall not see you again until you
return to the regiment. I--" suddenly his gray face began to
twitch again--and he set his jaw savagely to control it.

"Good-bye," he said. . . "I wish--some day--you could try to think
less harshly of me. I am a--very--lonely man."

Berkley closed his eyes, but whether from weakness or sullen
resentment the older man could not know. He stood looking down
wistfully at the boy for a moment, then turned and went heavily
away with blurred eyes that did not recognise the woman in bonnet
and light summer gown who was entering the hospital tent. As he
stood aside to let her pass he heard his name pronounced, in a
cold, decisive voice; and, passing his gloved hand across his eyes
to clear them, recognise