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To go into Germany as an anti-British Afrikander was a stoutish adventure, but to lounge about at home talking rot was a very different-sized job. My stomach rose at the thought of it, and I had pretty well decided to wire to Bullivant and cry off. There are some things that no one has a right to ask of any white man. When I got to Isham and found poor old Blaikie I didn't feel happier.

This last letter was horribly touching, for summer had come and the smell of the woods behind his prison reminded Peter of a place in the Woodbush, and one could read in every sentence the ache of exile. I sat on that stone wall and considered how trifling were the crumpled leaves in my bed of life compared with the thorns Peter and Blaikie had to lie on.

"It would seem as though the Israelites had had some knowledge of telegony, for in Deuteronomy we find that when a man died leaving no issue, his wife was commanded to marry her husband's brother, in order that he might 'raise up seed to his brother." We must omit the thorough inquiry into this subject that is offered by Mr. Blaikie.

"Well" Captain Blaikie began to fill his pipe "who takes about nine-tenths of the risk, and does practically all the hard work in the Army? The private and the subaltern you and your picket, in fact. Now, here is the problem which has puzzled me ever since I joined the Army, and I've had nineteen years' service.

John Blaikie, a Scotchman, and therefore always a welcome guest at Wrentham, reigned in his stead. Mr. Childs had a large and promising family, few of whom now remain. His daughter was an exceptionally gifted and glorious creature, as in that early day it seemed to me. She also died early, leaving but one son, Mr. Crisp, a partner in the well-known legal firm of Messrs. Ashurst, Morris, and Crisp.

"Pass back word to the men," groans Captain Blaikie, "to march at attention, put their caps straight, and slope their shovels properly. And send an orderly to that hilltop to look out for General Willis. Tell him to unlace his boots when he gets there, and on no account to admit that he knows how to make a sea-pie!" The Great War has been terribly hard on the text-books.

It was addressed in a scrawling hand "To Susan Blaikie, servant with Henry Wallscourt, Esq., 19, Grosvenor Square, London." "Here's a job, Davy," said Lindsay, holding up the letter. "I promised faithfully to deliver this within an hour after my arrival in London, and here it is still. But better late than never. Will you go with me and see the fair maiden to whom this is addressed?

As our train-load drew up at the platform, the officer in charge it was Captain Blaikie, supported by Bobby Little stepped out, saluted the somewhat rotund Colonel Hyde whom he saw before him, and proffered a sheaf of papers. "Good-morning, sir," he said. "Here is my train statement. Shall I carry on with the unloading? I have all my parties detailed."

Waddell's platoon has the hardest time, for they were passing a quickset hedge when the order came. However, they hurl themselves blasphemously through, and double on, scratched and panting. "Good morning, sir!" says Captain Blaikie, saluting. "Good morning!" says General Freeman. "What was that last movement?" "The men are taking 'artillery' formation, sir.

"I should like to raise everybody's wages," said the benevolent Mr. Swann, as he seated himself at his desk. "Everything is like a holiday to me after being cooped up in that bedroom; but the rest has done me a lot of good, so Blaikie says. And now what is going to happen to you?" Hardy shook his head. "Strike while the iron is hot," said the ship-broker.