Sometimes people daring enough to peer over the high wall of the palace garden noticed there, carried in a footman's arms, or drawn in a chair, or left to play on the grass, often with nobody to mind him, a pretty little boy, with a bright, intelligent face and large, melancholy eyes no, not exactly melancholy, for they were his mother's, and she was by no means sad-minded, but thoughtful and dreamy.
We supposed that the young officer, coming fresh to the place, did not know where the British lines ended and the Turks' began, and he marched his squads into that bit of No Man's Land beyond the machine-gun near "Jefferson's Post," and was either shot or taken prisoner. It made the men heavy and sad-minded. "Poor old Mellor 'e warn't a bad sort, was he!"
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