re came a little tap at th

e door of the guard-room, and a very little voice sa

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id: 'Oh, do please let me come in.'[42] Then the door opened slowly. 'Well, come in, whoever you are,' said the captain. And the person who came in was—Lucy.

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Lucy, whom Philip thought he had got rid of—Lucy, who stood for the new hateful life to which Helen had left him. Lucy, in her serge skirt and jersey, with her little slee

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k fair pig-tails, and that anxious 'I-wish-we-could-be-friends' smile of hers. Philip was furious. It was too bad. 'And who is this?' the captain was saying kind

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ly. 'It's me—it's Lucy,' she said. 'I came up with him.' She pointed to Philip. 'No manners,' thought Philip in bitterness. 'No, you didn't,' he said shortly.

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'I did—I was close behind you when you were climbing the ladder bridge. And I've been waiting alone ever since, when you were asleep and all. I knew he'd be cross wh

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en he knew I'd come,' she explained to the soldiers. 'I'm not cross,' said Philip very crossly indeed, but the captain signed to him to be silent. Then Lucy was qu

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estioned and her answers written in the book, and when that was done the captain said: 'So this little girl is a friend of yours?'[43] 'No, she isn't,' said Philip violently; 'she's not my friend, and she never will be. I've seen her, that's all, and I don't want to see her again.' 'You are unkind,' said Lucy. And then the

ce, most unpleasant to Philip. The soldiers, he perceived, now looked coldly at him. It was all Lucy's fault. What did she want to come shoving in for, spoiling everything? Any one but a girl would have known that a guard-room wasn't the right place for a girl. He frowned and said nothing. Lucy had smuggled up against the captain's knee, and he was stroking her hair. 'Poor little woman,' he said. 'You must go to sleep now, so as to be rested before you go to the Hall of Justice in the morning.' They made Lucy a bed of soldiers' cloaks laid on a bench; and bearskins are the best of pillows. Philip had a soldier's cloak and a bench,


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Jane Doe t, and qui

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earskin too—but what was the good? Everything was spoiled. If Lucy had not come

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Jane Doe te equal t

the gua

rd-room as a sleeping-place would have been almost as good as the tented field.

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Jane Doe o facing a

But she

had come, and the guard-room was no better now than any old night-nursery. And h

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