d Jim continued Deborah's wonderful song of Jael and Sisera to the
bitter end of its strong monosyllabic climax.

"There," he said, closing the volume, "that's what I call revenge.
That's the real Scripture thing--no fancy frills theer."

"Yes; but, Jim dear, don't you see that she treated him first--sorter
got round him with free milk and butter, and reg'larly blandished him,"
argued Maggie earnestly.

But Jim declined to accept this feminine suggestion, or to pursue the
subject further, and after a fraternal embrace they separated for the
night. Jim lingered long enough to look after the fastening of the
door and windows, and Maggie remained for some moments at her casement,
looking across the gallery to the Marsh beyond.

The moon had risen, the tide was half up. Whatever sign or trace of
alien footprint or occupation had been there was already smoothly
obliterated; even the configuration of the land had changed. A black
cape had disappeared, a level line of shore had been eaten into by
teeth of glistening silver. The whole dark surface of the Marsh was
beginning to be streaked with shining veins as if a new life was
coursing through it. Part of the open bay before the Fort, encroaching
upon the shore, seemed in the moonlight to be reaching a white and
outstretched arm towards the nest of the Kingfisher.

III.

The reveille at Fort Redwood had been supplemented full five minutes by
the voice of Lieutenant George Calvert's servant, before that young
officer struggled from his bed. His head was splitting, his tongue and
lips were dry and feverish, his bloodshot eyes were shrinking from the
insufferable light of the day, his mind a confused medley of the past
night and the present morning, of cards and wild revelry, and the
vision of a reproachfully trim orderly standing at his door with
reports and orders which he now held composedly in his hand. For
Lieutenant Calvert had been enjoying a symposium variously known as
"Stag Feed" and "A Wild Stormy Night" with several of his brother
officers, and a sickening conviction that it was not the first or the
last time he had indulged in these festivities. At that moment he
loathed himself, and then after the usual derelict fashion cursed the
fate that had sent him, after graduating, to a frontier garrison--the
dull monotony of whose duties made the Border horse-play of dissipation
a relief. Already he had reached the miserable point of envying the
veteran cap