well that it should be those who stand between you and an earldom. Why, they say that out in that beastly place, Le Breton's luck was a catch-word. It was always his company that dropped on the blacks and got their change out of them; it was always Le Breton who found water when the rest of the force was parched as peas, it was always-"

"Dry up; here's young Gordon!" said one of the men, warningly. "Don't let him hear you abusing Le Breton-” "I wasn't abusing him!"

"Well, talking about him in anything but a complimentary fashion-or nothing but your blood will satisfy young Gordon."

So the subject was changed as Bertie came towards them. There was evidently nothing much on his mind; and, notwithstanding the terrible ordeal he had gone through, his smile was as boyish, his eyes as bright as they had been when he and Lance tramped side by side and messed together before the fighting began. As he came down the big room, with his light but firm step, he nodded to all and exchanged a laughing greeting with some.

Come and sit down, Gordon?" "Dine at our table, will you?" "What do you say to bridge to-night?"

Bertie smiled in response to the various and heartily given invitations he was a great favourite-but he shook his head and his eyes wandered round the room and over the group. "Thanks: but I'm booked for to-night. Anyone seen Le Breton?"

The major nodded to the ante-room where Lance sat behind his paper and almost within hearing, and Bertie went off at once to him.

Lance looked up and nodded in the grave fashion which had become habitual with him, and Bertie laid a hand on Lance's shoulder before he spoke. The action was significant enough and was indicative of the warm affection that existed between them; for men are not demonstrative nowadays, and are not fond of even shaking hands.

"Come and have some dinner, Lance," said Bertie; and the tone of his voice was as eloquent of his love for the man as the touch of his hand.

"Yes: but not here, if you don't mind. It's somewhat public, and talking's rather a bore. I ordered a chop or something of the kind at my rooms-"

"That's good enough," said Bertie.

The two men passed out, every eye following them, and in the street they attracted attention: the policeman pointed

out the Captain le Breton to the crossing sweeper who stands opposite the club, and the passers-by stopped and stared at the face which the illustrated papers had made so familiar to the curious public.

"Walk or ride?" asked Bertie.

"Oh, walk," said Lance, absently.

As absently he sat down to dinner at which the handy Spilkins, now honourably discharged, waited with the devotion to Lance which he had displayed all through the campaign; and as absently, with the same air of abstraction, Lance ate the plain, but admirably cooked, meal. Bertie, who knew his friend's mood so well, humoured it, not by a bored silence, but by a gentle strain of conversation; but when Spilkins had gone and Lance had reached for his old pipe, Bertie said, gently:

"What is it, Lance?"

Lance looked at him in silence for a moment.

"A letter from my uncle. I must go down there tomorrow."

Bertie nodded. "Of course: you were going, you know." "Yes, to-morrow, or the day after," said Lance. They had only arrived in London two days previously, and they had had to report themselves. "But-I funk it, Bertie. It's the solid truth. I'm ashamed; but there it is. To face that poor old man with his two boys dead. To present myself-I, who ought to have been shot half a dozen times-as the heirGreat heaven! how will he be able to keep off exclaiming: "They are dead: why are you alive?""

Bertie was too wise to point out the morbid injustice of this; and he smoked his cigar in a silence which would have done credit to a much older man.

"Besides," Lance went on, but hesitated and frowned sadly at the fire, "the sight of the place will drive me mad. To think, only a few months-not a year ago—"

He stopped abruptly, as if he had suddenly remembered that he was not talking to himself, but had a listener. Then Bertie spoke.

"Would it make it any easier if I came with you, old

man?"

Lance turned to him eagerly, but checked himself and bit his lip.

"What a selfish beast I am," he said, with a short laugh. "I was actually about to accept your offer-to take you away from your mother."

"She knows I'm going," remarked Bertie, quietly. "I

was she who suggested it. Fact. Oh, there's nothing the mater would draw the line at where you're concerned. She'll even sacrifice her darling baby-boy, as you perceive."

66

Lady Gordon is very good," said Lance, gratefully. "I'd like to have you-it's just on the cards that you'd be the means of saving me from going stark, staring mad at sight of the place

He stopped again, and Bertie leant forward and touched him on the knee.

"See here, old man," he said; "there's something more than the two deaths that makes it hard for you to go down there. Goodness knows, I don't want to know; but, if it would help you to tell me-if it would ease your mind- Do you think I don't remember the day you got leave and the way you were knocked over by something you read in the paper? I didn't ask you then; nor when you were down with the fever and raving like a lunatic did I listen. I haven't asked you since; but now-what is it, old man? See here; it hurts to look on and see you suffering and not be able to help you to help you with even a word."

Lance laid his hand on the lad's shoulders and looked down at him.

"Bertie, there is a dark shadow over my life, a piece of bad luck, that has left its mark on me like the mark of one of those niggers' spears. But they only mark the flesh: my trouble scarred niy heart, and it hurts still: it will hurt while I live: that's what I'm afraid of: and the sight of that place will wake up the pain and the smart of the old wound. No, stop here with your mother, my boy-"

"We'll go down by

Bertie rose and got a Bradshaw. "There's a train at 11:30," he said. that. I took the liberty of writing to Lord Ashleigh and asking him if I might come with you; and he was good enough to write and say he'd be glad to see me at least, it was from Lady May- any friend of yours,' she said. And so there you are, you know.

"Little May!" said Lance, almost to himself. "Little May!" Then he scowled at Bertie. "You're an obstinate young beggar," he said, with a shrug of his shoulders.

But Bertie understood: he had caught the look of gratitude that flashed behind the scowl.

"Oh, I may as well go down with you," he said in a casual way. "You'd be getting into some scrape or other, if I wasn't there to look after you."

CHAPTER XXXV.

LANCE and Bertie went down to Holmby by the 11:30. They were met by the great carriage, and a full complement of servants, in black livery, who accorded Lance a respectful attention full of significance: for was he not the heir and their future master?

As they drove up to the vast place, Bertie, accustomed as he was to country seats, was impressed by its size and grandeur; but he was still more impressed, not to say startled, by the beautiful girl who came to the door and almost ran down the steps to welcome Lance. May's black dress served to set off her exquisite colouring, the gold in her hair and the sunlight in her eyes; her young face shone like a star; and Bertie envied Lance as he put his arm round the slim, graceful figure and kissed the soft, red lips.

"Oh, I am so glad you've come, Lance!" she said "We've been expecting and longing for you! But how pale and thin you are! That dreadful little war! But, oh, Lance, I am so proud of you!" She gave him a little hug. Then she became conscious of Bertie's presence, and turned to him with a slight blush and a little flickering smile which made. her face all the more charming. "How do you do, Mr. Gordon? It is very kind of you to come down with Lance, to-to so quiet a house. We seem to have known you quite well, for of course we've read of you in the papers, and Lance has written so much about you.

"That'll do, May," said Lance. "Mr. Gordon has quite a good enough opinion of himself already; and too much of that sort of thing is decidedly bad for him." But he smiled as he

spoke, and laid his hand on Bertie's shoulder.

"Don't you believe him, Lady May," said Bertie, with gravity. "I am the victim of injustice. Modesty has been my drawback from my youth up, and, if I do not take care, will ultimately ruin me. No; of the two individuals you see before you it is Captain le Breton who suffers from vanity and vaingloriousness; and it is my chief mission in life to endeavour, by precept and example, to keep him from having a swelled head.

May answered this sally with a soft laugh and a twinkle of her bright eyes; and the two young people were friends in an instant.

Lance went straight to his uncle. Lord Ashleigh was sit

ting in the library, his arm-chair wheeled up close to the fire, his gouty leg supported by a rest; the hand he held out to Lance trembled, and Lance saw by the deep lines in the old man's face, and its pallor, how much he had suffered. For the moment neither man could speak; then, slowly releasing Lance's hand, the earl said in a voice he tried to keep steady: "So you've come back, Lance? I'm glad. It's quite right you should do so. I've been waiting anxiously for you. We little thought when you went away that-that you would come back as you have done, that you would only find me and May to welcome you. My boys" His voice broke. "But God's will be done; and I ought to be thankful that I have you left. It would have been hard lines if the title and the estate had gone to that other fellow "-" that other fellow" was the next heir, an individual particularly obnoxious to the poor old man-" that would have broken me up altogether. But the fact that you'll come after me helps me to bear the loss of Ned and Arthur; for you are of the right sort, my boy; a good soldier and a sportsman, and you'll do the right thing by the title and the old place. We won't say anything more about the boys-I'll try and forget my sorrow, now you've come home-for it's home,' Lance, to you, as much as it is to me and I don't want to make it a wretched one: God knows it's been wretched enough lately. It wouldn't be fair to you to make the house a place of mourning. You're looking rather seedy, Lance; but I know you've had a rough time of it. I'm proud of you-but there! blood always tells. I said that if you had your chance you'd make your mark, and you have. Yes, we're proud of you; and as for May, she's quite insufferable about your grand doings. She's had a bad time, too, of course; and I'm glad, for her sake, that you have come back. You'll cheer her up. Your Aunt Adderley is here off and on, to look after May; but she's away just at present-the Lord be praised!"

He expressed his gratitude with a touch of his old whimsicality.

"And so you've brought young Gordon down with you. That's right. His father was a greal pal of mine, and I shall be glad to have the boy. Send him in to me presently. And you've got the V. C., eh, Lance? I'd sooner have it than the Garter; and they'll have to give you that: they can't help it, d-n them! I'll hobble in to dinner to-night. Tell Williams to let us have some of that old port. He's a stingy beast and never gives it to me-b'lieve he keeps it for himself. We must have a flare-up to-night. And look here, Lance,