with your honour's kind permission,
and by the Grace of God, there is no reason whatever why he should ever
reach it." That man thoroughly meant what he said, and to this day the
same touching devotion of the men to their officers, though perhaps less
bluntly expressed, is still one of the characteristics of the Guides.

Many years afterwards Lord William Beresford, when Military Secretary to
the Viceroy, was fond of telling a story not only illustrative of the
personal equation which would cause one of the rough and ready old
soldiers to refuse obedience to any but his own officers, but also
giving a somewhat embarrassing illustration of a sentry adhering too
literally to his orders. Lord William was somewhat annoyed at the time;
but when cooler, he saw the sound military spirit underlying the
incident, and hence always mentioned it with commendation.

It appears that as the Guides' cavalry were marching in to Rawul Pindi
for a concentration of troops, just before they reached their
camping-ground they passed a pond by the roadside. The officer
commanding turning round, called one of the men to him and said: "Go,
stand sentry on that pond, and don't let anyone water there, till we
have watered our horses."

"Very good, your Honour," replied the trooper, and went and posted
himself.

What the commanding officer really meant was, not to allow cattle and
transport animals to dirty the water before the horses came down to
drink; but he did not express himself very clearly.

Shortly after the sentry had taken up his beat a string of horses,
headed by a gorgeous being in a scarlet uniform, appeared, making for
the pond.

"Hullo! you there, where are you going?" shouted the sentry.

"Going?" repeated the gorgeous being, superciliously. "Why, to water my
horses, you stupid fool."

"No you don't," said the sentry; "no one waters here till the Guides
have finished with it."

The gorgeous person nearly fell off his horse with astonishment, and
when he found speech he replied: "Cease prattling, son of an impure
mother! These are the Great Lord's horses, and can of course water where
and when they choose."

"I don't care a quarter of an anna whose horses they are, but they don't
water here. So, out of this, you mis-begotten son of a red-coated ape,
or I'll give you something to help you along." And the sentry quietly
pulled out a cartridge, and began leisurely fitting it into the breech
of his carbine.

This was not