In July, 1892, when I had arrived in Bac-Ninh, it seemed, after my protracted stay in the wild regions of the upper Yen-Thé, that at last I had returned to a large town, and the sight of a few scores of brick buildings was, for the first few days, quite a novelty; but when, six months later, I found myself in the capital of Tonquin, it was like getting back to a big European city, and, though we sometimes regretted the charms of our former adventurous existence, both Lipthay and myself soon began to find a new pleasure in the renewed acquaintance with the comforts and distractions of civilisation. We were not as free as we had been at Bac-Ninh, as we were lodged in a room set apart for us, in the barracks of the 9th Regiment of _Infanterie de Marine_, and were for a few days the pet grievance of the "non-coms" of that corps, who put us on fatigue duty and made us take part in the inspections. This, however, was soon stopped by the Chief of the Staff, and we were allowed to continue the even tenour of our way. There is always a certain amount of jealousy felt for the scribes of the army, and the French sergeants were probably indignant at the thought that we were drawing as much pay as they were, that we were allowed out every night till 10 P.M., and also because we took our meals at the canteen, in a room specially reserved for us. The latter arrangement was adopted to avoid indiscretions, for a few of us were continually and unavoidably in possession of facts it was of absolute importance the majority of the troops should not learn.