te, "we
sneaked on each sentry until we came to Number One Post. It was near the
gates--connected by phone and electric light wires with the barracks."

"How did you manage?"

"Cut the bloomin' wires."

"Didn't the guard rush out?"

"They did, sir. Couldn't find their pieces in the dark. They rushed
right into the arms of the two companies Colonel Sutphen had there
waiting for them. Only one, a sergeant, 'ad grit enough to fight. 'E
picked me out, sir. Rushed me with 'is sword and gave me all I could
do," said Carrick giving gallant tribute to a valiant foe. The Cockney
became silent.

"Well?" inquired Carter after a prolonged season of expectancy.

"The old trick you taught me in E Troop did for 'im, sir. As 'e fell, 'e
said, 'Bull, you are a damned rascal,' and laughed as if the joke was on
'im. 'I'm done for, Bull,' 'e went on, 'but I'd rather die this wye in a
fair fight with a friend, than blindfold against the wall for a traitor.
Take care o' Cap Carter, 'e said. Then 'e croaked."

"Judson," cried Carter regretfully at the death of a brave man.

"Judson, of old E Troop," replied Carrick solemnly. "We sounded taps
over 'im this mornin', sir."

XX

A SOUND AT MIDNIGHT

Two days later a royal banquet followed by a cotillion celebrated the
coming of the King. The monarch was in the white uniform of a Field
Marshal, above which his handsome face rose in striking contrast. His
collar, heavy with gold embroidery, seemed held in place by the Star of
the Lion. At his right hand sat Trusia, resplendent and warmly human,
while flanking him on the left was the grizzled Sutphen. Carter's place
as an aide was far down the side of the table. Only by leaning forward,
and glancing past those intervening, could he get a glimpse of the
marvelous woman, who, young as she was, had made this event a
possibility.

Sallies, laughter, repartee came floating down to him. A momentary pang
of envy shot through him that the royal party, which to him meant
Trusia, should be in such high feather. Owing to his remoteness it was
impossible for him to participate in their mirth, so he resigned himself
to the duty of entertaining the daughter of an elderly nobleman who was
under his escort.

"And you," he said, "you, too, are delighted with the dashing King.
Confess."

"I am afraid," she laughed back, "that all girls, even in America, dream
what their ideal king should be."

"Your sex's ideal man?" he inquired quizzical