son. How are the poor beasts?"

"Lovely, sir. The farrier doctored the cuts and scratches they got in
the skirmish, and they're pretty well healed up now. It's a cowardly
thing to cut at a horse. Then you feel strong enough to have a try,
sir?"

"You wait till we get the orders to start, Samson, and you shall see."

Samson rubbed his hands and began to smile, but the pleasant look was
ousted by a grotesque twitching of the countenance.

"What's the matter?"

"I always forget, sir. Wound reminds me when I go too fast, and aren't
careful. All right again soon, though. Don't hear no noos of the war
being over, sir, I s'pose?"

"No, Samson, none. Tired of it?"

"Tired, sir? I don't know about tired, but I can't help thinking of the
manor now and then, and what sort of a state my garden will be in. Why,
Master Fred, sir, you know that bit under the north wall, where the
mistress's herbs and simples grow!"

"Yes."

"Well, sir, I shan't know that bit again. That there patch in
partic'lar 'll be one big touzle o' weeds, and--"

_Tantara, tantara, tantara_! A trumpet rang out, sending a thrill
through Fred, as he grasped its meaning, and that of the blasts that
followed, with the rush of feet and trampling of horses. For a
messenger had come in bearing a despatch, and in an incredibly short
space of time tents were struck, baggage waggons loaded, and the little
force was marching slowly to the west, Fred having only time to shake
hands with his little nurse, and assure the landlord for the fiftieth
time that he forgave him for being the cause of his wounds, and was most
grateful for the kindness he had received.

Then, to his intense delight, he was once more mounted on his horse,
which gave a whinny of recognition as his master patted his neck and
smoothed his velvet muzzle. The trumpets rang out the advance, and with
the sun flashing from the men's arms, the array moved slowly off, and
the youth's eyes sparkled as he drew in long breaths of the soft sweet
air, while he gazed wonderingly in the direction they were taking, his
breast filled with new hopes, in which he was afraid to indulge, lest
they should prove to be false.

The longing to question his superior officers was intense, though he
knew that even they would probably be in ignorance of their route; and
never before had he felt so strongly that a soldier is only a portion of
one great piece of mechanism moved by one--the general in command