that all that nonsense of Harry Lant's
with the elephant was shaping itself for our good, but so it was, as you
shall by-and-by hear. The march continued, matters seeming to go on
very smoothly--but only seeming, mind you, for let alone that we were
all walking upon a volcano, there was a good deal of unpleasantry
brewing. Let alone my feeling that, somehow or another, Harry Lant was
not so true a mate to me as he used to be, there was a good deal wrong
between Captain Dyer and Lieutenant Leigh, and it soon seemed plain that
there was much more peace and comfort in our camp a week earlier than
there was at the time of which I am now writing.

I used to have my turns as sentry here and there; and it was when
standing stock-still with my piece, that I used to see and hear so
much--for in a camp it seems to be a custom for people to look upon a
sentry as a something that can neither see nor hear anything but what
might come in the shape of an enemy. They know he must not move from
his post, which is to say that he's tied hand and foot, and perhaps from
that they think that he's tied as to his senses. At all events, I got
to see that when Miss Ross was seated in the colonel's tent, and Captain
Dyer was near her, she seemed to grow gentle and quiet, and her eyes
would light up, and her rich red lips part, as she listened to what he
was saying; while, when it came to Lieutenant Leigh's turn, and he was
beside her talking, she would be merry and chatty, and would laugh and
talk as lively as could be. Harry Lant said it was because they were
making up matters, and that some day she would be Mrs Leigh; but I
didn't look at it in that light, thought said nothing.

I used to like to be sentry at the colonel's tent, on our halting for
the night, when the canvas would be looped up, to let in the air, and
they'd got their great globe-lamps lit, with the tops to them, to keep
out the flies, and the draughts made by the punkahs swinging backwards
and forwards. I used to think it quite a pretty sight, with the ladies
and the three or four officers, perhaps chatting, perhaps having a
little music, for Miss Ross could sing like--like a nightingale, I was
going to say; but no nightingale that I ever heard could seem to lay
hold of your heart and almost bring tears into your eyes, as she did.
Then she used to sing duets with Captain Dyer, because the colonel
wished it, though it was plain to see Mrs Maine didn't like it, any
more th