en Lucy was questioned and her answers
written in the book, and when that was done the captain said:

'So this little girl is a friend of yours?'

'No, she isn't,' said Philip violently; 'she's not my friend, and she
never will be. I've seen her, that's all, and I don't want to see her
again.'

'You _are_ unkind,' said Lucy.

And then there was a grave silence, most unpleasant to Philip. The
soldiers, he perceived, now looked coldly at him. It was all Lucy's
fault. What did she want to come shoving in for, spoiling everything?
Any one but a girl would have known that a guard-room wasn't the right
place for a girl. He frowned and said nothing. Lucy had smuggled up
against the captain's knee, and he was stroking her hair.

'Poor little woman,' he said. 'You must go to sleep now, so as to be
rested before you go to the Hall of Justice in the morning.'

They made Lucy a bed of soldiers' cloaks laid on a bench; and bearskins
are the best of pillows. Philip had a soldier's cloak and a bench, and a
bearskin too--but what was the good? Everything was spoiled. If Lucy had
not come the guard-room as a sleeping-place would have been almost as
good as the tented field. But she _had_ come, and the guard-room was no
better now than any old night-nursery. And how had she known? How had
she come? How had she made her way to that illimitable prairie where he
had found the mysterious beginning of the ladder bridge? He went to
sleep a bunched-up lump of prickly discontent and suppressed fury.

When he woke it was bright daylight, and a soldier was saying, 'Wake up,
Trespassers. Breakfast----'

'How jolly,' thought Philip, 'to be having military breakfast.' Then he
remembered Lucy, and hated her being there, and felt once more that she
had spoiled everything.

I should not, myself, care for a breakfast of cocoa-nut ice, peppermint
creams, apples, bread and butter and sweet milk. But the soldiers seemed
to enjoy it. And it would have exactly suited Philip if he had not seen
that Lucy was enjoying it too.

'I do hate greedy girls,' he told himself, for he was now in that state
of black rage when you hate everything the person you are angry with
does or says or is.

And now it was time to start for the Hall of Justice. The guard formed
outside, and Philip noticed that each soldier stood on a sort of green
mat. When the order to march was given, each soldier quickly and
expertly rolled up his green mat and put it under his arm. An