crutably into the deep-set, glittering eyes,
answered as simply: "I will, Sergeant!"

He declined an offer. "_Nemoyah_! (No) thanks, I've had enough."

For some unaccountable reason, Slavin smiled also. His huge clamping
right hand crushed George's, while the left described an arc heavenwards.
Came a throaty gurgle, a careless swing of the arm, and--

"Be lay loike a warrior takin' his rist,
Wid his--

"I misrimimber th' tail-ind av ut," sighed Sergeant Slavin, "'Tis toime
we turned in."

In silence they re-entered the detachment. Yorke, minus his moccasins,
fur-coat and red-serge, lay stretched out upon his cot sleeping heavily,
his flushed, reckless, high-bred face pillowed on one outflung arm.
Above him, silent guardians of his rest, his grotesque mixture of prints
gleamed duskily in the lamp-light.

Into Redmond's mind--sunk into a deep oblivion of dreamy, chaotic
thought--came again Slavin's words:

"Shtudy thim picthures, bhoy! an', by an' large ye have th' man himsilf"

Soon, too, he slept; and into his fitful slumbers drifted a ridiculously
disturbing dream. That of actually witnessing the terrible scene of the
long-dead Indian Mutiny hero, Major Hodson, executing with his own hand
the three princes of Oude.

_Inshalla_! it was done--there! there! against the cart, amidst the
gorgeous setting of Indian sunset and gleaming minaret. "Deen! Deen!
Futteh _Mohammed_!" came a dying scream upon the last shot--the smoking
carbine was jerked back to the "recover"--a moment the scarlet-turbaned,
scarlet-sashed English officer gazed with ruthless satisfaction at his
treacherous victims then, turning sharply, faced him.

And lo! to Redmond it seemed that the stern, intolerant,
recklessly-handsome countenance he looked upon bore a striking
resemblance to the face of Yorke.

CHAPTER IV

_Burn'd Marmion's swarthy cheek like fire,
And shook his very frame for ire,
And--"This to me!" he said,--_
MARMION

Early on the morrow it came to pass that Sergeant Slavin, cooking
breakfast for all hands, heard Yorke's voice uplifted in song, as that
worthy made his leisurely toilet. He shot a slightly bilious glance at
Redmond, who, "Morning Stables" finished, lounged nearby.

"Hear um?" he snorted enviously. "Singin'! singin'!--forever
singin'!--eyah! sich nonsince, tu."

But, to George, who possessed a musical ear, the ringing tenor sounded
rather airily and