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"I've quit mining. The ranch for me," exclaimed Kalman, with cheerful enthusiasm. "But what's up?" said French, with a touch of impatience. "Jack, we have lost the mine," said Kalman quietly. And he told the story. As he concluded the tale, French's listlessness vanished. He was his own man again. "We will ride down and see Brown," he said with decision.
After this account of what British soldiers think of the enemy, it is interesting to read what is the German opinion of Tommy Atkins. Evidently the fighting men do not share the Kaiser's estimate of "French's contemptible little army."
"Except," he added, with emotion, "that I have heard, only to-day, that if Kitty wishes it, her old friend Miss French will go out to her at once, nurse her, and travel with her as long as she pleases. Miss French's brother has just married, and she is at liberty. She is most deeply attached to Kitty, and as soon as she heard Lady Alice's report of her state she forgot everything else.
Meanwhile the Transvaal Government which they had gone to meet had been again sent on its journeyings. The effects of French's drive had soon passed away, and Lord Kitchener found it necessary to resume active operations in the Eastern Transvaal, the chief object of which was the capture of the Transvaal Government.
Givenchy, while receiving but slight mention in Sir John French's dispatches, was perhaps only a minor affair; but the fact that, owing largely to a shortage of bombs, we were unable to hold the ground we had gained does not in any way detract from the gallantry of the attack.
"We've wired for them to meet Craig," Quest said. "I only hope they don't let him slip through their fingers. I haven't much faith in his promise to turn up at the Professor's. Let's see what Laura and French have to say." "Can't see any sense in staying on here any longer," was French's immediate decision, "so long as you two invalids feel that you can stand the journey.
Isn't there anything you want to tell me about your work your book?" His face lit up eagerly the topic was congenial. "My papers are safe," he said. "All the initial work of classification and description that I did on the Tintoretto is in French's keeping, and he and Sinclair the man who has my place are going to edit the book.
"Preachin' 'll be done away with soon or late, preachin' o' Elder French's kind," announced Mercy Crane, after waiting to see if her guest did not mean to say anything more. "I should like to read 'em out that verse another fashion: 'Be ye doers o' the word, not preachers only, would hit it about right; but there, it's easy for all of us to talk.
New-Yorker, is it to be friends and a drink, or do you want a quarrel?" The deputies were very thirsty. The perspiration was streaming down French's forehead. They all looked at one another. Laura whispered in French's ear and he nodded. "We'll call it a drink," he decided. The hunted man turned around with a little gasp. Before him was the rude mountain bridge, and on the other side freedom.
The Confederates were content to hold the line of the West Wood and the high ground back of the church, and French's attack upon D. H. Hill was now attracting their attention. It seems to have been an incident of the aggressive movement against Sedgwick, though not coincident with it. Richardson had been mortally wounded, and Hancock had been sent from Franklin's corps to command the division.
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